


This Isn't Some Greek Tragedy

by siriuslymcfly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU after that, Alive Pack, Alpha Derek, Anchors, Angst, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Hurt Stiles, Isaac Lahey & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Like, M/M, Magic Stiles, Mates, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Possessive Derek, Post-Season/Series 02, Pretty sure this will turn into a series, Protective Derek, Slow Burn, Stiles is smart, a really slow burn, later on, mythical creatures, over 50K, pack leaves stiles out, stiles is derek’s anchor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2020-05-13 20:28:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 86,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19258615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siriuslymcfly/pseuds/siriuslymcfly
Summary: Stiles Stilinski never thought he’d find himself at the centre of a deep, dark, supernatural underworld filled with witches, ghouls, vampires and any other number of nightmarish monsters. But he got over it, because he’s awesome. In fact, he pretty much saves the day most of the time. But, when his pack begins to pull away and a new threat looms on the horizon, it starts looking like a mere human isn’t really cut out for the job.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

Have you ever heard the story of the frog and boiling water? If you boiled a pan of water and tried to drop a frog into it, the frog, like any normal creature, would jump out. But, if you placed the frog in a pan of cold water and then slowly heated it up, the frog would stay until it boiled alive. 

 

When Stiles had been told that story, he had quickly corrected whoever it was that had repeated the fake fable and moved on. He kind of wished he had taken more time to understand it back then, to get the metaphor rather than take it so literally. Maybe it could have prevented the unfurling of events that lead to him here, in a pale beige room of Beacon Hills Hospital.

 

 

** Two Days Ago **

 

 

“How kind of you to join us Mr Stilinski,” Mr Harris said in his usual sarcastic tone as Stiles shuffled into the Chemistry Lab, every students’ eyes on him. He ignored them in favour of mumbling an apology to his teacher before collapsing into his usual seat. He was only ten minutes late, but Mr Harris wasn’t likely to cut him any slack. Without looking at the next bench, he knew Scott was trying catch his eye, probably to ask why he hadn’t picked him up that morning. Because of the bad weather, Stiles had offered to take him to school in the morning so he wouldn’t have to get soaked, but he had overslept and was running late. “As you seem so unconcerned with your tardiness Mr Stilinski, perhaps you will sum up last nights reading was for us?” Thankfully, Stiles had skimmed over that part of the book weeks ago, simply as a distraction from a reoccurring nightmare that had coincidentally made him late that morning. After summarising for the class, he slouched back in his seat and let his leg bounce distractedly.

 

 

Half way through the lesson Stiles’ phone beeped signalling a new message. He didn’t look at it though, choosing to ignore what he assumed was probably just another angst ridden text from Scott about how Mr Argent was still keeping Allison to a curfew because he disliked the boy so much. Sometimes, he felt as though the only time Scott would talk to him was so he could complain about Allison. And when it wasn’t that it was almost always a question about werewolf business that Stiles might be able to help with because he seemed to be the only one who ever did any form of research in the whole of the Beacon Hills pack. Not that he was bitter or anything, because what else could he do? He wasn’t exactly up for the fighting side of the pack’s activities. The only way he could help was to do what he was already doing, what he was already spending hours and hours doing - research. But now the latest threat to the pack was dealt with, his skills were not needed. And without them he had no place in the pack anymore. That wasn’t what anyone had said, but it didn’t need to be. Whenever he hung out with them these days it was all about play fighting and showing off their werewolf talents or training. Stiles was starting to feel like freaking Rudolf when all the other reindeer wouldn’t let him join in all their reindeer games. Except they were werewolves, and the games were all slightly more teeth and claws orientated.

 

“Hey Stiles wait up!” Sighing at the sound of Scott’s voice, Stiles halted in the corridor full of people on his way to Economics, yet another class he would probably be singled out in and made a fool of. “Where were you this morning man? I waited but then my mum just dropped me in on the way to work.” 

Stiles rubbed his face as his head prickled uncomfortably. “Sorry, the jeep wouldn’t start.” It was a lie, but Scott didn’t say anything if he had heard his heartbeat give it away. Instead, he simply launched into another rant about Allison and Stiles tuned out. Just as they reached the classroom door, a wave of dizziness came over him and Stiles had to grab the frame to stop himself falling. Scott, who obviously hadn’t been watching where he was going or paying attention at all, stumbled over his friend. 

“Are you okay Stiles?” It was Isaac who had asked the question. Stiles held a hand over his eyes, the light becoming patches of black and his head spinning. He felt woozy, like he was about to empty his stomach any second, only there was nothing there. He couldn’t remember what his last meal had been, but it certainly wasn’t breakfast that morning. He hadn’t felt up to eating anything when he woke up, nor before he went to bed last night. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry.” He stood straight, gave Isaac a forced smile and lead the way into the classroom.

 

In hindsight, Stiles probably should have cared more about that incident. Sure, he had been having headaches for weeks, and dizzy spells weren’t that uncommon, but he sat through the rest of his classes and lunch without thinking about it again. He watched as the pack interacted at their usual table in the cafeteria while picking at his food. Opposite him sat Scott, who was between Boyd and Erica. Isaac sat on Stiles’ left while Lydia was on his right, chatting away to Jackson and Allison. Their very unusual group was happy and relaxed, arguing lightly about something relatively unimportant, probably who was the strongest or fastest, those were their usual favourite arguments. Before, the group hadn’t acted much like a pack. The arguments hadn’t been lighthearted but real fights, and the dynamics hadn’t worked with Scott being so strong willed and reluctant to join. But now he had accepted Derek as the Alpha, and after going through a bunch of different supernatural threats, they were all bonding. Even Jackson was fitting in in his own way. He stuck with Lydia most of the time, but he did get involved in pack days and he did make the effort to spend time with them. The whole kanima thing was long forgotten, everyone seemed to have forgiven Jackson for trying to kill them all. Stiles had forgiven him too, but he still found it odd at times when Jackson would be hanging out with them in Derek’s loft he was renting while he had the old Hale house completely rebuilt. Turns out, Derek was completely loaded, and now there was a lull in activity, it was a good time to create a real home for the pack. 

 

 

The nightmare returned that night. Stiles had come home to an empty house after school, his father still at work, just like every other night. He hated how much his dad worked. He knew why he did it, knew that instinct to protect was a genetic thing, but he sometimes wondered, only briefly before he would shut the idea down, if it was partly his fault. His dad loved him of course, Stiles knew that, but he also knew how hard his dad found it to raise a son on his own, especially one like Stiles - difficult, hyperactive, attention seeking. So maybe work was a nice break from a kid who needed so much time and attention. Sometimes, when Stiles was feeling really down about it, he would wonder if his dad was in some way disappointed with the son he got. Would he have been different if his mother had been around to help? Maybe. She would have been good for his ADHD, that was for sure. She always knew what to do about it. It made his bad mood worse when he thought about it in that way, and Stiles would have to try and distract himself when he felt those thoughts threaten to overwhelm him. Research helped with that, but when that dried up, there weren’t many places to turn.

 

 

After changing out of his lacrosse gear, Stiles spent hours on his computer and flicking through school books, getting ahead on work for the rest of the year. His brain soaked it all in like a sponge until he felt like his head might explode if he read anymore. It was the early hours of the morning when he finally picked himself up from his desk chair and collapsed onto his bed, face first. 

 

The nightmare was the same as it had been for the past week. Stiles could feel the water like it was really there. He could feel it splash around his face, soak into his clothes and drag him down. He clutched desperately at the body he was trying to keep afloat, but Derek kept slipping out of his fingers. Everything kept slipping out his fingers, out of his control. He gasped and water entered his mouth. It was so hard to stay up. Stiles knew it would be easier to just let go completely, let his body sink to the bottom of the pool. He wouldn’t have to fight anymore, but he wanted to, he had to keep fighting. His life mattered to people, didn’t it?

 

 

Stiles was jerked awake by the sound of his father tripping over something as he made his way down the corridor, heading out to work. Glancing at his alarm clock, Stiles groaned. Only three hours. Knowing he wouldn’t get back to sleep, and dreading that the nightmare would come back if he did, Stiles sat up and stretched. His bleary eyes took a while to clear enough for him to get up and make his way over to the bathroom. His shower was short and he was soon standing in front of the mirror, critically assessing the bruises which were dotted over the skin of his torso. He hissed quietly as he pressed a finger into a new one on his shoulder, another lacrosse incident. The marks were a constant reminder just how human he was. The dizziness hit him again as he stood there, prodding his body gently. It was worse this time, his vision blacking out for a few seconds. It felt almost like he had stood up too quickly and all the blood was rushing from his head. Stiles gripped onto the sink with one hand and opened the medicine part in a cabinet beside the mirror. Blindly he reached for some pain pills as well as his usual Adderall. Hoping they would help, Stiles made his way back to his room to get ready for the day.

 

 

Everything had been relatively normal up until the class after lunch. He had picked up Scott, resisted the urge to feint on the drive to school, handed in the right homework for his classes and listened to the pack’s conversation in the cafeteria, occasionally adding his own commentary in. If anyone thought he was being oddly quiet, they didn’t mention anything. It wasn’t until half way through English that another wave of dizziness hit him. This time though, he felt his hands start to shake and then all of a sudden he blacked out.

 

 

And that was how he had ended up at the hospital. Stiles had woken up with needles attached to him, a heart monitor bleeping away in the background. He blinked his eyes open slowly, trying to adjust to the light. Carefully, he lifted a hand to his forehead, just above his left eye, where he could feel a slight sting. He groaned silently when he felt a stitched up cut running horizontally above his eyebrow. He tried to remember what had happened. How had he got that cut? Before he could though Stiles heard the door open and he shifted so he could see who had entered. Melissa McCall smiled when she saw he was awake. “How are you feeling Stiles?” 

He smiled back and tried to shrug. “Fine I guess. I can’t really remember much.” 

She nodded and picked up the clipboard from the end of his bed. Flicking through, she quizzed him about his pain and the events leading up to his blacking out. Supposedly he had passed out in English and as he fell from his seat he had smashed his head on the edge of the desk, which would explain the cut. “The stitches are dissolvable, so you won’t need to come back to have them removed,” Melissa told him as she put the clipboard back. Instead of leaving though she moved round the bed so she could sit down in the seat beside him. 

Stiles eyes her cautiously. “Something up Ms McCall?” 

She sighed. “Stiles, the reason you blacked out was a mixture of exhaustion and malnutrition.” She placed a comforting hand on his arm. “You have pushed your body so much that it’s trying to fight back. Stiles, is there something wrong that caused this? How is everything at school?” 

Stiles gulped. “I- I’m fine, I guess I’ve just been stressed lately so I’ve sort of forgotten a couple of meals and sleeping has been hard, it’s nothing really.” Stiles tried to wave it off, unwilling to tell her what was really wrong. 

She sighed. “I don’t think missing a few meals would cause your body weight to drop this massively Stiles.” She squeezed his hand. “If you feel like you can’t talk to me, then that’s fine. Just please find someone you can tell. Talking about whatever is troubling you so much will help, I promise.” 

Stiles just gave a her a smile and nod. He would like to talk to someone, he was just rather limited in who he could actually tell. And he wasn’t about to bother the pack with something as minuscule as him feeling slightly irrelevant at times. 

Knowing that was all she was going to get, Melissa stood up. “You have some visitors outside that are keen to come see how you are. Want me to say they can come in?” 

Stiles nodded and shuffled up on the bed so his back was against the headboard. 

 

One by one, members of the pack entered the room and were told they could only stay for a few minutes before someone came back to drug Stiles up again so he could get more rest. Even Jackson had turned up. Scott was first, and he rushed to Stiles’ bedside as soon as he saw his best friend. “Stiles! I can’t believe that happened. Why didn’t you say anything dude?” 

Stiles shrugged, surprised but happy that Scott seemed so concerned. “It’s not that bad guys, no need to plan my funeral just yet,” he said with a humorous tone. They didn’t look convinced however.

“Scott’s mum told us they have you on special nutrients in your IV drip,” Isaac said from the other side of the bed. He sounded as worried as Scott, even more perhaps. At the mention of the drip, Stiles glanced down at his hand. He hadn’t paid attention to it before, but now he was staring at the taped over needle it was making him feel squeamish. Isaac placed a hand near his arm, his fingers brushing his skin gently. Scott had done the same. It was just another werewolf thing Stiles had had to get used to. Physical contact was big within the pack. It was their way of getting closer, feeling more like a unit. Pack dynamics were weird, Stiles mused, watching the five teen wolves interacting. There were certain things they did that Stiles took a while to grasp, since he wasn’t running on the same instincts as them. Meal times for a while had been confusing, since he had no idea why everyone would always wait around before starting, and then glare at him when he went to go first. Turns out, there are ranks within the pack which didn’t stop at just Derek. A pecking order of sorts. The higher ups get first picks. They weren’t strict about it, especially when Derek wasn’t with them, but it was still noticeable in the wolves’ every day interactions.

 

The pack tried to refuse to leave when Melissa came back, but she managed to kick them out with Stiles’ help at reassuring them he’d be fine. “Your dad has been here, but he had to get to work just before you woke up. I’ve said that the doctor should come speak to you while he’s here, is that okay?” Stiles nodded drowsily as the drugs inserted through is IV started taking affect. 

 

 

When he finally woke up again, it wasn’t his dad sitting in the chair in the corner of the room like he had expected. Derek Hale watched closely as Stiles blinked his eyes open. As soon as the teenager caught sight of the man in the room, he jumped, his heart monitor bleeping excessively. 

“Breathe Stiles,” Derek said calmly, standing up and walking over.

“You shouldn’t do that to me. What if you gave me a heart attack? I could actually die in this hospital. Now that would be ironic,” Stiles started to ramble. Derek merely rolled his eyes at the teen. “What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you have wolfy business to attend to or something?”

“This is my business right now. You’ve got the pack on edge. They’re agitated and they won’t leave here until they know you’re okay.” 

Stiles wasn’t sure he completely believed the Alpha. “Sure they are Sourwolf, but what brings you here to my humble abode? Worried about me?” 

Derek gave Stiles his perfected Alpha wolf glare. “Don’t call me that,” he growled but Stiles simply smiled, not as perturbed by the tone of voice as he used to be. “You’re pack Stiles, and that makes you my responsibility.” 

Being Derek’s whatever suddenly got Stiles slightly flushed and the heart monitor bleeped out of sync. He would have cursed had he not known Derek would already be able to hear the sudden fluttering. “Well, that’s all very heartfelt and stuff but you didn’t really answer my question.”

Shooting Stiles another one of his glares, Derek folded his arms across his chest. He stared at Stiles for another minute or so before just turning and leaving. Stiles couldn’t even be bothered to kick up a fuss about his lack of answers. “Taciturn as ever Derek,” he muttered as he slid back down on his bed and closed his eyes.

 

 

Stiles was discharged after he had listened to what the doctor had to say to himself and his dad. “So you’ll need to stick to these meal suggestions, and take one of these every night, it’ll help your body with nutrients absorbing. We’ll need you to come back in two weeks so we can make sure everything is normal, and I would suggest you come back in three months for a check up, but it’s not mandatory.” The Doctor handed over a pile of documents to his dad. John Stilinski nodded along to what the doctor was saying while Stiles sat with his legs crossed on the bed, anxiously picking at his nails and pulling at loose threads on his long sleeved T-shirt he had changed into. 

Obviously noticing his actions, his father turned to the doctor again. “Will anything react badly to his Adderall?” Stiles hadn’t thought about that, he just guessed the doctors would know not to give him anything that could affect it.

“You shouldn’t have a problem with the stuff we’ve given you Stiles, but if you do have any more dizzy spells or prolonged headaches come back and we’ll see what we can do.” 

Nodding again, his dad stood up and shook the doctor’s hand. Stiles did the same, and followed after his dad, antsy to get out of the boring room. He wasn’t surprised to see Scott and Isaac outside by the Sheriff’s car. They jumped on him as soon as they saw him, both acting like overgrown puppies. Stiles grinned. It was a contrast to how the pack had been acting before, but it wasn’t unwelcome. Stiles would take smothering over indifference any day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I have had this story just sitting here on my laptop for so long and I'm finally committed to finishing it. Like I said in the tags, it will be well over 50k when finished. If you enjoyed, feel free to kudos and/or leave a comment :) I love to hear from you guys!


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

 “No way. No way in hell.” Stiles was good at putting up with a lot when it came to his supernatural buddies, but he was going to put his foot down when their new brilliant plan was to become his own personal babysitters. Erica and Boyd both seemed less enthused than Scott or Isaac at the idea Derek had proposed. More like ordered, Stiles thought bitterly as he glared at the messengers. They did seem mildly sympathetic to his situation though. Maybe they realised how ridiculous the notion really was. Jackson on the other hand looked downright pissed off he was being forced into this.

 

After getting back from the hospital, Stiles, Scott and Isaac had made camp down in the sitting room while John Stilinski retreated to the kitchen, refusing to go back to work for just one day to look after his son. His words, not Stiles’ idea. It had only taken minutes for the rest of the wolves to turn up so they could deliver the message from Derek. 

 

“I don’t need babysitters! I just need to sleep some more and eat something, no big deal!” He whispered angrily at the guilty looking werewolves.

“It’s Alpha’s orders though,” Isaac pointed out like that explained everything. 

“Well you can tell your Alpha-” Stiles started angrily but was cut off by Erica.

“Look, we’re not your messengers alright? If you want to be angry at Derek then fine, give me your phone.” 

Stiles stared at her for a second before she just forcibly pulled it out his pocket and unlocked it. “Hey! That’s password protected! How did you just do that?” 

Scott rolled his eyes. “Dude, everyone knows your password. Werewolf isn’t very secret.”

Stiles snorted, still amused by his choice in security. “You’re one to talk Scotty. 1234 is worse.”

The others laughed while Scott just shrugged with a smile, accepting Stiles’ point without protest. When Erica handed him back his phone Stiles stared at the new number in his contacts list. 

“You gave me Derek’s number?” She just stared at him. Seriously, was that a werewolf thing? Because it was creepily close to the look Derek sometimes gave him when Stiles asked a particularly stupid question. “Why would you do that?” 

She rolled her eyes. “It’s about time you had it so you can whine at him instead of using us like your own personal owls.” 

Stiles sighed. "Okay, I'm not saying I'm down for this, but I'm really not in the mood to argue with you right now and I’m liking your Harry Potter reference so can we just watch a movie or something?" He suggested defeatedly. 

Jackson grunted. "Finally. I have places to be and I'd like to not spend my entire day around you losers." Ignoring his usual pleasantries, the group sighed in unison, glad the topic was being dropped, and all dispersed around the room to their chosen seats for the movie viewing. 

 

 

His dad had been occupying himself quietly in the kitchen, probably working on some case files, but he poked his head around when the teenagers started making noise in the sitting room. "Do you guys want any drinks? Some snacks?" He shot Stiles a look as if to say I am the Sheriff and you will agree to my every will and suggestion. Stiles sighed and went to get up but Isaac pushed him back down on the sofa where he had thrown himself next to Scott.

"I'll go get the stuff while you guys choose a movie!" He claimed happily and strolled over to where Stiles's dad was watching in mild amusement. Stiles merely scowled at Isaac's blatant actions before looking over to Jackson who was rifling through the vast DVD collection. The jock rolled his eyes at many of the cases, and occasionally snorted in distaste at others. Finally though Jackson had short listed three which he said were the only ones he could watch without having to stab himself out of boredom. Stiles knew he was lying though, he'd seen Jackson's DVD collection before and they had basically the same taste. Jackson's desperate attempts to distance himself from the pack even now, after all they’d been through together, only made Stiles roll his eyes. No one took it seriously anymore, and Stiles was pretty sure Jackson only meant it half the time.

"I wanna watch Spider-Man though!" Scott whined when he saw the options Jackson had given.

"Well, tough luck loser we're not watching lame stuff."

"How about we watch that horror one?" Erica suggested but Stiles shuddered.

"No way, last time I watched that I couldn't sleep for weeks." 

"Then maybe you shouldn't be such a wimp," Jackson shot over his shoulder. 

Stiles glared. "Oh I'm sorry Jackson that we can't all be as brave and amazing as you," Stiles snapped back. Before Jackson could come back with a reply Isaac and John Stilinski came through with the drinks and snacks. Stiles expected the food to be gone by the time it was placed on the coffee table but everyone just seemed to be waiting for something.

 

John left the group to it as they all shifted awkwardly. Stiles wondered what was going on. Usually, when Derek wasn't around, there was always a second of hesitation before it was every man for himself. Or every wolf for himself and poor Stiles Stilinski was left to scrabble for the remains. But this time it seemed no one was willing to take the first handful. Eventually, feeling too awkward in the silence not to do something, Stiles stood up and grabbed the horror movie from beside Jackson and shoved it in the player before snatching up a couple of chips from one of the bowls and throwing himself back into his seat. As soon as he had dropped one chip into his mouth dramatically the others descended onto the bowls like starving animals. Stiles snorted at that idea and all he could imagine was his friends as puppies, clambering over each other at supper time, all trying to reach the same bowl and falling over both themselves and each other to get there. It was Scott who made it out of the pile up first and he retook his seat beside Stiles on the couch.

 

"Did you guys just wait until I ate first before going in?" 

Scott rubbed his neck guiltily. "Yeah I guess we did." 

Stiles didn't need to ask why they did that. He knew it was because of his current state. In his research he'd found that a pack becomes very defensive of an injured member, so he guessed that was why they wanted him to eat first. Either that or he'd suddenly become Alpha of the ragtag group and boy wouldn’t that be something. But he honestly didn’t envy Derek in that role, despite how frustrated he could get with the wolf when he wouldn’t listen to him. Being Alpha was hard, and even though Derek had kind of sucked for a while, he seemed to have got the hang of it now. Sure, he made some mistakes still, but Stiles was secretly impressed Derek managed to pull together their group and actually make a decent pack out of them. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to do it.

 

"Are we going to play the damn movie or not?" Jackson asked around a mouthful of food. Stiles had no idea how someone could be doing that and still look as attractive as Jackson did.

Woah. 

Appreciating the physical attractiveness of a fellow guy was probably not something a straight man did very often. Best to move on from that quickly and forget about it. Definitely something he was going to put in that back section of his mind he never liked to touch. His problems would often find their way there, and most just seemed to sort themselves out without any help from his conscious mind. It was a good system - well, up until he ended up in hospital on an IV drip, but whatever. This was not the same thing. This was an unusual thought that probably meant nothing and could be easily ignored with no dire consequences as a result. He liked girls. He liked looking at and appreciating girls. They were very attractive, much more than stupid Jackson with his perfect jaw. It was probably just jealousy, Stiles thought to himself. It eased his racing mind to realise that was all it probably was, enough so that he could push it away and refocus his energy on the start of the movie.

 

 

It was only minutes in when Stiles jumped in fright and kicked an innocent Isaac where he had been leaning on the couch next to Stiles' legs. Isaac only grinned and patted Stiles gently then turned back to the screen. Ten minutes after that something else made Stiles startle and wrap his arms around his legs and bury his face in his knees. Thankfully, it seemed that everyone else was just as scared by the movie, and when the little girl on the screen suddenly disappeared, Isaac jumped up and curled into Stiles' side while Scott practically hid behind Boyd, using him as a human shield. Even the almighty Jackson had his shoulders pressed against the back of the armchair and his hands clutching desperately at a pillow. Stiles wanted to grab some more food, but he was too terrified to leave the couch to get it. "Pst, Erica!" He whispered loudly, causing all the wolves to flinch. She turned and glared at him. She seemed to be the only one not freaked out enough to actually enjoy the movie.

"What Stiles?" She growled back.

"Pass me some food?" His demanding phrase came out more like a question. It wasn't Stiles' fault though, the girl kind of intimidated him still. She hit him over the head with a bit of his own car for god's sake! Erica did pass a plate over though, which had a suspiciously large amount of food on it. Stiles had a feeling it was her attempt at trying to feed him up. When he only managed half of what was on there though, it seemed her efforts had been in vain. He glanced around at all the wolves as an excuse to look away from the screen. It was kind of pathetic that a bunch of werewolves were scared by a supernatural movie, considering all the real life monsters they’d had to face. It made Stiles smile though to see them all in one place, his place, and just being a pack again. He wished Lydia and Allison could be there too, but he knew this was wolf time and the two girls were probably busy with whatever shopping spree or activity Lydia had planned. He didn’t envy Allison there. He’d take the horror movie over a shopping trip with Lydia any day of the week.

 

 

Stiles was shocked when he woke up the next morning without a memory of nightmares plaguing him. The sunlight was creeping in through a gap in the curtains, casting a orange glow on the pile of bodies that could only come with a dawn sunrise. Warmth surrounded Stiles, but he realised after a few seconds that it wasn't from the morning sun. The pack had seemed to migrate over to the main couch during the movie, all too scared to stay on their own. It must have been after they had put in the second movie that Stiles fell asleep, because he couldn't remember moving at all during the horror movie, and now he was curled up on a duvet on the floor with his head on a pillow and Isaac almost curled up at his feet. Erica and Boyd were beside Scott with their own blanket and Jackson had his legs tangled with Isaac's. Stiles wondered absentmindedly what Jackson would say when he woke up and realised where he was. Probably something insulting so he could retain his couldn't-care-less attitude. 

 

"Hey Stiles, you awake?" His dad was standing in the doorway, already in uniform and strapping on his belt. Stiles shuffled as much as he could without jostling Isaac and smiled awkwardly at his dad. John didn't look entirely comfortable with the situation, but he didn't say anything. He might later though when they were alone, Stiles dreaded how that conversation would go. "Make sure your, ah, friends are up in time for school. I would stay home with you today but there's a lot to do at the station." Stiles shook his head, showing his dad that he didn't mind. "Alright, well, I'll see you later kid. Remember your food list thing is on the fridge and I’ve left my card on the counter if you need to grab anything." John gave the group one last look before disappearing out the front door.

 

Stiles took a moment before he reached over and fumbled around, searching for his phone. After wrapping his fingers around the object that had fallen beneath the couch, he found himself scrolling through his contacts list and hovering over Derek's number. He had a sudden urge to call it. Stiles had no idea what he would say, but he couldn't scroll past it. Glancing at the time, he saw it was only just 7am. Derek probably wouldn't even be awake. But what if he was? Stiles sighed inaudibly and struggled out of the puppy pile he was entangled in. Once out, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of the pack all curled up together. He would leave them to sleep for a little longer before making them get up for school. So he left them to it and climbed the stairs up to his room, closing the door silently behind himself. 

 

Stiles sat down on his duvet-less bed and stared at his phone with a frown. Was he really going to do this? The dialling sound that started a second later obviously meant yes. Derek picked up on the second ring.

"What's wrong Stiles?" Derek asked, not sounding as tired as Stiles had assumed he would be. He also didn't question why Stiles had his number but he felt as though he should explain himself anyway.

"Oh, nothing really. Erica gave me your number, hope you don't mind. Actually she gave it so I could talk to you about this babysitting idea. Well, not really talk, more like complain. I mean c'mon Derek! I'm not a child, I can handle myself! I don't need the whole pack hanging around to make sure I eat my vegetables and get a good nights sleep," Stiles rambled.

"Are they there now?"

"You mean you're not even going to address the issue here?" Stiles heard Derek sigh.

"Stiles." 

He huffed and fell back against his mattress, switching the phone to his other ear. "Fine, yes they are. They're having a puppy pile downstairs that I'm about to wake them from so they can go to school."

"Will you be home alone today?"

"Yeah until about 9 tonight probably unless one of my nannies turns up when school ends." 

Derek seemed to ignore Stiles' bitter tone. "I'll be there in an hour." 

Stiles didn't have a chance to complain before Derek hung up. 

 

When Stiles ventured downstairs again he found Jackson, Erica and Boyd all awake. "Have fun talking to Derek?" 

Stiles blanched at Erica then just shook his head and grabbed two empty bowls off the coffee table. He didn't have to grace that with an answer.

"You couldn't have been quieter while you left for your little gossip could you?" Jackson grumbled. 

"You have to get up for school now anyway," Stiles called as he took the things into the kitchen and placed them in the sink to be washed later.

"You're not coming?" Isaac asked as he and Scott shuffled into the room and plopped down on two of the wooden chairs.

"I have to stay off for another day, doctor's orders." Stiles sighed and turned the coffee machine on, assuming the pack would need some caffeine before heading to their own houses to get ready for school.

"Should I stay off today so you aren't alone?" Isaac suggested and Stiles smiled.

"Don't worry about it man, Derek said he'd be round to check up on me and what's not."

"Of course he did," Erica muttered as she too entered the room and sat herself down on a chair. Stiles ignored her comment, as he often did with the female wolf.

"I'm going to make you guys coffee but then you've gotta get outta here so you have time to change and stuff before school." 

Scott groaned at the idea of an education. Stiles raised his eyebrows at his best friend. 

"What? You can't give me that look, you're the one who gets to stay at home all day and chill."

Stiles rolled his eyes and turned back to the coffee maker. He had a feeling his day with Derek may be slightly more interesting than the pop quiz they had for Economics the rest of the pack would have to endure.

 

 

They all trudged out the front door half an hour later after a bit of persuasion from Stiles, Jackson and Boyd leaving with a nod and Erica with a peculiar glint in her eye. Scott clapped him on the shoulder and smiled brightly, a lot more awake after his coffee, and Isaac pulled him into a bear hug that Stiles returned with a little hesitation. He only had time to have a quick shower and pull on some semi-decent clothes before Derek knocked on the front door. "What? Is the window unfashionable now?" Stiles asked as he opened it. Derek stood in his usual leather jacket and dark wash jeans. His hair was in its spiky style and there was slight stubble dusted along his jaw line.

Derek rolled his green eyes and stepped inside, causing Stiles to take a step back and close the door. "You smell like pack." He stated.

"Woah okay dude, no need to sniff me," Stiles held up his hands. But Derek didn't step away and Stiles' heart thudded. "We had a little pack sleepover remember? Turns out Isaac is a cuddler. At least he isn't a blanket stealer like Scott I guess." The intensity vanished from Derek's eyes when he blinked, and he wandered away from Stiles, into the kitchen.

"Have you eaten yet?" He asked. 

Stiles shook his head and glanced down at the meal suggestions he'd taken off the fridge. He groaned. "We don't have any of this stuff, and even if we did I wouldn't know how to make half of it." He flopped down onto a chair. 

Derek sat in the one opposite much more gracefully and picked up the paper. "We'll have to go get it then."

"Did you miss the bit about my complete incompetence in the kitchen? I can make coffee, and sometimes heat up a microwave meal, but that's about it." Stiles said but it didn't stop Derek from standing up and folding the list before slipping it into his pocket.

"I can teach you." Stiles gawked at the wolf before scrambling up to follow him out the house.

 

 

The grocery store. Stiles hated the grocery store. It was always busy and boring and long and there was too much junk food there to tempt him. Usually his dad just did the shopping for basic stuff and they learnt to survive on what the pair of them could cook. Shopping with Derek however was much more entertaining. Stiles rambled constantly while Derek pushed the cart, and when there was enough food in there to keep it balanced, Stiles insisted on sitting in it. He even managed to persuade Derek to get some things that weren't on the list, something his dad always refused to do. Swinging his legs over the end of the trolley, Stiles grinned happily as Derek walked down the drinks aisle.

"You're going to get in trouble," Derek pointed out when Stiles almost fell out the cart trying to reach over and grab some of his favourite energy drinks. 

"Wait, is the big bad wolf afraid of some grocery store attendants?" Stiles smirked as Derek picked up the drinks for him off the shelf and placed them next to the some of the healthier foods.

"I'd rather we didn't get kicked out before buying all this stuff." 

Stiles shrugged and went back to fidgeting around. He turned his nose up when Derek started making his way towards the fruit and vegetables aisle. "Do we really need to get that? Is it even edible?" Stiles poked at the long purple thing placed beside him with mistrust. It had a sort of rubbery texture and Stiles couldn't see himself eating it in a million years. He didn't even know what you would do with it. 

Derek huffed and pulled it away from Stiles' probing fingers. "It's an eggplant Stiles, not a bomb."

Stiles snorted. "Did you just make a joke? I do believe my hilarious nature is rubbing off on you Sourwolf." 

Derek simply gave him _that_ look. 

 

"Stiles?" Whipping his head round, Stiles saw one of his dad's new deputies carrying a basket with a few groceries in it. He was shooting Derek cautious glances while walking towards them. Derek stiffened and watched Stiles closely.

"Oh hey Marvin," Stiles greeted somewhat awkwardly as he hopped down from the trolley.

"I thought you were supposed to be at home?" 

Stiles waved his hand dismissively."Needed some groceries so I decided to hire a personal shopper!" He gestured to Derek who just looked back stonily. Marvin didn't laugh. "So," Stiles started awkwardly. "We must get going. Stuff to buy and meals to cook and all that! Good to see you Marvin!" Stiles turned and started to walk away, hoping Derek would follow his lead.

"Hope you feel better soon Stiles!" Marvin called and Stiles waved over his shoulder then pulled the cart around the corner.

 

"Well, that was great," he said into the silence. 

Derek gave him another of his eyebrows raised looks then checked down the list. "We've got everything on here."

"Great, lets go check out then and get the hell out of here. I don't want to run into anyone else who knows my dad." They made their way to the counter while Stiles chatted randomly about other awkward situations he had been in. He didn't know if Derek was even listening, but it felt comfortable to talk at him. It helped keep him distracted, and loosen any tension he still felt being in a one on one situation with the Alpha. They had begun to tolerate each other by now, and Derek even refrained from shoving him against walls and slamming his head down on steering wheels these days. But things were still relatively cool between them. Stiles talked too much and Derek didn’t talk enough. It was just never going to be a warm and fuzzy relationship between them, despite how much Stiles had wished the wolf would warm up to him in the earlier days. It just wasn’t going to happen. In fact, Stiles was surprised there hadn't been another death threat involving Derek's teeth in the time they'd spent together that morning. It seemed like Derek usually couldn't help himself after minutes in Stiles' company. 

"Marvin will probably tell my dad about this you know. And I don't think he'll be too happy about me hanging out with an accused murderer." 

Derek raised an eyebrow in a way Stiles was pretty sure he had practiced in the mirror to get perfect. "The charges were dropped."

"Yes, but still! You're a person of interest and that's not exactly the sort of company the Sheriff's son should be keeping, in his eyes." The cashier was giving them weird looks but the two ignored her until she asked who was paying. Derek looked like he was about to pull out his wallet but Stiles jumped forward and gave the woman the card his dad had left before he could. He shot Derek an innocent look before grabbing a couple of bags and strolling out the shop. 

 

 

Turns out, Derek hadn't been anticipating how bad Stiles was in the kitchen. "What the hell Stiles?!" 

The boy dropped the hand mixer and stepped away from the bowl of ingredients he had managed to splatter all over Derek. "I'm sorry! I don't even know how it happened that time!" So far, he had managed to spill milk on the wolf, cover his shirt with flour and now get the mixture in his usually perfect hair. Derek wasn't very patient with him, which didn't make for a good teacher.

"That's it!" Derek growled, his eyes flashing. "You, sit." And Stiles did. He watched Derek finish the pancakes on his own and set them down on the table with some fresh strawberries. Stiles couldn't help but snigger at Derek who hadn't realised there was some mixture still on his jaw.

"You missed a bit Sourwolf." Stiles pointed and Derek scrubbed it off with a scowl. "I warned you I was no good at cooking! But did you listen? Of course not."

"Stiles?"

"hm?

"Eat." 

 

Grumbling about being ordered around, Stiles picked at the pancake on his plate until another glare from Derek made him take a real bite. It was good, surprisingly so knowing that Derek made it. But Stiles only managed one before he was full. Derek seemed unhappy about it but didn't push him.

"So, you've made sure I've eaten. Are you going to disappear now until lunch time and go practice your brooding or whatever it is you do in your spare time?" Derek stood and placed their plates in the sink. He then walked out the room and Stiles heard him sit down on the couch. Sighing, Stiles stood too. "I'll take that as a no then."

 

 

They repeated the process at lunch, Derek trying to teach Stiles how to make a meal then just giving up before it became a danger to his life. They watched more TV after that, sitting either side of the couch. After the closeness of the pack the day before, the distance felt somewhat strange, but Stiles didn't try to shuffle over. When he became restless, Derek would hand him the remote, almost as if he knew Stiles needed to change the channel to keep interested for longer periods of time. It was nice, how quickly Derek picked up on it. It had taken Scott weeks to realise what Stiles had needed, and he still found it mildly irritating when Stiles would switch onto another program when Scott had been enjoying the one they were already on. But Derek didn't seem phased by it.

 

"Hey look, Star Wars is on!" Stiles saw Derek's eyes narrow and he gasped. "You don't like Star Wars?! What is wrong with you?!" Derek rolled his eyes but didn't say anything. "I'm sorry we can no longer be friends if you don't like Star Wars."

"Who said we were friends in the first place?" Derek asked with a smirk.

"I do, because I’ve saved your life on multiple occasions and if that's not a bonding experience I don't know what is." 

Derek didn't say anything to that, but his expression seemed to hint that he agreed. Stiles took that as an accomplishment. Maybe him and Derek actually were friends? They'd gone the whole day without a single death threat or even an act of violence, and that was something. Smiling to himself, Stiles sat back on the couch and watched the title sequence of the movie.

 

* * *

 

Derek listened silently to the steady thrumming of the heart that he could probably pick out in a crowded room three miles away. He couldn't pin point the exact moment he had become so in tune with the sound. He guessed it was after that pool incident with kanima Jackson. The sound was calm, it grounded him, kept him focused on where and who he was. Derek watched the teenager beside him surreptitiously. Stiles was completely focused on the screen, for once his whole body still and relaxed. Occasionally, his mouth would twitch at something amusing being said, or he'd lean forward slightly at an intense scene. He looked happy, something Derek hadn't seen in the boy's features for a while. He didn't know what had been distracting Stiles so much, but it had taken its toll. Stiles without that constant energy had been unnerving. 

 

Suddenly, Stiles yawned and he shuffled further into the couch, bringing him slightly closer to Derek. His eyes started to droop, long lashes brushing against his cheeks every time his eyelids closed. Derek could tell he was fighting to keep awake and finish the movie, but exhaustion seemed to be winning the battle. Eventually, Stiles slumped in his seat and his head lolled to the side, mouth slightly parted and breath coming out in slow deep huffs. Derek stared for a minute. It wasn't that late, but he didn't want Stiles to sleep too long in such an uncomfortable position in case he got neck ache. Making up his mind, Derek stood, leaned over and scooped the teen up into his arms. He easily carried him up the stairs and into his room, placing him gently onto the middle of the bed. Derek pulled the duvet over Stiles’ unconscious body and wandered towards to the desk chair. On Stiles' desk was his most recent unfinished homework, a few text books and some basic notes about Luna cycles. Derek flicked through the text books and smiled when he found notes added in by Stiles himself to help with revision, scrawled in the margins. On a few pages there were even some doodles and a couple of hangman games. Derek recognised Scott's handwriting on those. No wonder the boy was failing classes if he just messed about with Stiles when he should have been concentrating. 

 

About an hour later Derek heard the Sheriff’s cruiser pull up in the drive way. He didn't know why he was even still around. He had made sure Stiles ate, and he'd even confirmed that the boy actually slept, so he should have left as soon as he had carried him upstairs. But he couldn't. So when he heard the Sheriff’s footsteps on the stairs, Derek pulled open the window and jumped down onto the protruding roof just below, wide enough to allow him to sit with his back against the exterior wall of the house. Luckily Stiles' room faced out onto the backyard, keeping Derek’s position hidden from any nosy neighbours. John Stilinski didn't say anything when he checked on his son, just sighed and made his way down the corridor to his own room. Derek rested his head back against the wall and listened. He could hear the wind rustling the leaves of the partially bare trees, the hum of cars speeding down the highway just out of town, and that steady beating of a heart. He closed his eyes and concentrated on that, letting it drown out all the other sounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go, another chapter :) Thanks for the interest everyone has shown, I'm excited for where this story is going. I'm thinking about making a designated day for uploads, say, once a week? Maybe Mondays? That way I can space it out a bit and give myself time to finish the later stuff too. What do you all think?  
> As always, comments, kudos and love are greatly appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

 

"Stiles? Can you come here a second?" So close, Stiles groaned internally and turned from where he had been trying to sneak out the front door without his dad noticing. Obviously, he hadn't been as furtive as he would have hoped.

"What's up dad?" 

John put down the morning paper and looked at his son. Stiles shuffled uncomfortably. That was his interrogation face he usually saved for criminals or for when Stiles had done something particularly bad.

"You haven't eaten anything this morning." 

Stiles let out the breath he had been holding. "Oh right, sorry! Almost forgot to grab this." He took a banana from the freshly stocked fruit bowl curtesy of Derek's healthy eating shop. 

"And I spoke to Marvin yesterday." Oh.

"That's cool," Stiles said, trying to play ignorant. Always the best option.

"He seemed quite concerned that you weren't resting all day after just getting out of hospital. Said you were out with a, and I quote, big dangerous looking fella in a leather jacket." Busted.

"Are you sure because-"

"Stiles." He sighed.

"It's nothing dad, Derek just stopped round and helped me get the stuff for my new diet since I had no clue what to do about it."

"I thought you weren't friends with him?" 

Stiles shrugged. "We weren't, but I guess that's changed." 

John frowned. "He's 23 Stiles."

"Is there an age restriction on friends now that I didn't know about?" Stiles asked.

"Is that all it is?" 

Stiles paused. "What?" 

John sighed and rubbed his face. He looked worn out. "Look, I'm not trying to be so direct here, but I need to know if you've decided to start... _seeing_  Derek Hale."

"Seeing?" Realisation dawned on Stiles. "Oh! No dad it's not like that! I'm not gay."

"So the other night with your friends..?" 

Stiles laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "They're just very touchy feely, that's all." 

John sat back in his chair. "I know you're close to Scott but I don’t remember it being like... well like that really." 

Stiles shrugged, getting uncomfortable with where the conversation was heading, how close to pack behaviour his dad was starting to pick up on. "It's all Isaac, he's rubbing off on everyone. Anyway," Stiles edged towards the door. "I better get to school." 

His dad nodded. "Sure. Just- just know you can talk to me about anything, okay?" 

Stiles nodded, that feeling of guilt creeping up on him again. He wished he could tell his dad everything, but he couldn't endanger his life like that. So he left the house before his father changed his mind and interrogated him any further.

 

"My dad asked me if I was gay this morning," was the first thing Stiles said to Scott when he saw him at school. 

Scott seemed surprised for a moment before schooling his expression. "And?"

"And what?" Stiles asked, opening his locker to get his books out.

"What did you say?"

"No of course. Dude, I was in love with Lydia since third grade. Plus, I think I'd know if I was gay." 

Scott shrugged. "You haven't mentioned anyone since you got over Lydia, but I guess you're right." 

Stiles frowned. Hadn’t he? Scott hadn't exactly been listening the past few weeks - or months really - but now Stiles thought about it, no girl had really caught his eye since Lydia.

"Oh hey, did you do the homework?" Scott asked on their way to history. Stiles groaned. He had completely forgotten that was due, he hadn't even looked at it since getting out of the hospital. He'd just picked up his books off his desk that morning without thinking about it. 

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure she'll understand about the hospital and stuff." 

Stiles nodded at his friend, hoping he was right.

 

It turned out to not be an issue. When Stiles opened his books and saw his essay, it was complete - even with a reference page of all the books he definitely did not use. The handwriting looked similar to his own, enough to fool a teacher anyway. On the end page there was a yellow post-it note with the words _You’re welcome ~D_ scrawled on it. Stiles stared, open-mouthed, at the note. It wasn’t until Scott nudged him in the back that Stiles realised the teacher was standing in front of him, waiting for his paper. Ripping the note off hastily, he handed it over and ignored Scott's incessant prodding in favour of pulling his phone out.

 

_What the hell? -S_

 

He waited impatiently for Derek's reply but it didn't come for fifteen minutes. When it did, all it said was _what?_

 

_You know what. Since when are you an expert on Ancient Greece? -S_

 

The next reply took even longer.

 

_I studied History at college. -D_

 

A second message came through a minute later, as Stiles was drafting his reply.

 

_Aren't you supposed to be concentrating so you can even get into college? -D_

 

Stiles edited his reply, then sent it. He didn’t know much about Derek’s life after the fire, what it was like just living with his sister after something like that. He’d thought about it a lot, more than he probably cared to admit, but this was one of the first times the wolf had volunteered some information.

 

_History and forgery I'm guessing. Double major. How did you even do that anyway? Is it another freaky werewolf superpower? -S_

 

Derek's reply came just before the end of the lesson.

 

_Thank you would be enough. -D_

 

The bell rang and Stiles shoved his backpack over his shoulder, leaving the room forgetting to wait for Scott. He walked to his next class oblivious to what was going on around him, concentrating completely on the phone in his hands.

 

_Yeah, sorry. Thanks for saving my ass I guess. -S_

 

Stiles almost walked into someone but he didn't look up.

 

_We're even now. -D_

 

Stiles sat down in the classroom and made sure the teacher hadn't arrived yet so he could reply.

 

_I don't think so sourwolf. One bit of homework isn't going to make up for the number of times I've saved your werewolf ass. You better think of something better than that. -S_

 

The teacher closed the door behind them as they arrived, just as Derek's text came through. Stiles glanced at it and grinned.

 

_Get back to work Stiles. I'll see you later. -D_

 

 

"Who were you texting earlier?" Scott asked Stiles as soon as he sat down on their lunch table beside Allison. 

"Derek," he said casually then frowned at Isaac who placed a sandwich next to the chips on his tray.

"Why?" Scott asked.

"He saved me by finishing my homework last night. I was just saying thanks." He glanced up to see Erica, Boyd and Lydia sharing the same looks. "I'm going to stop telling you guys stuff if you leave me out like this. What were those looks for?"

"Nothing!" They all chorused in sync, as if they'd rehearsed it. Stiles made a mental note to look up speaking habits in pack dynamics. He huffed and turned back to his sandwich Isaac had provided. It was better than school lunch, so he ate it begrudgingly which seemed to please everyone.

"This is good, did you make it?" Stiles turned to Isaac who shook his head.

"Derek did this morning. He told me to give it to you."

"Huh, another thing he can make," Stiles muttered, forgetting he was sitting amongst a bunch of werewolves with super awesome hearing.

"Another thing he can make?" Erica questioned.

"Yeah, he tried to teach me how to make some stuff yesterday but I was terrible so he just made it himself. Turns out Mr Alpha is actually pretty good in the kitchen." 

Erica gave that same look to Boyd beside her again, one that clearly meant they knew something he didn’t, and Stiles felt irrationally angry at them leaving him out yet again. "Fine, if you guys are going to be like that." He jumped up and stormed out, taking the sandwich with him and ignoring the voices calling him back.

 

 

The pack made it extremely difficult for him to avoid for the rest of the day. Every corner he turned one if them would be there, looking sorry and ready to grovel. Selfishly, Stiles wanted to drag it out for a while, just so they knew how angry he got about them leaving him out of things. Just because he was the useless human didn't mean he had to be ignorant to their inside jokes. When the final bell rang, Stiles made a dash for his jeep, completely unaware of the black Camaro waiting at the bottom of the steps. Stiles didn't see Derek step out, but he did see Isaac and Scott coming out of the school doors so he clambered into the jeep and pulled out quickly. He didn't even notice Derek watching him curiously, which he probably should have considering last time he didn’t notice Derek in the parking lot of Beacon Hills High. Seriously, what was his life if he had to actually check to make sure no werewolves were about to run out in front of him and then demand he drive them around for hours before asking to cut their arm off to stop them dying? 

 

But no, he was too concerned with getting out of the car park before any of his wolfy friends decided they had had enough of his avoidance tactics and just took apart his engine again. He could do without another mechanic bill. Stiles doubted his insurance would cover damage by angry supernatural friends. It hadn’t before.

 

 

The house was silent when he got home. His dad had left a note on the fridge saying he would be back late and not to wait up for him. Sighing, Stiles crumpled it in his hand and chucked it in the trash before trudging up to his room. He ditched his bag beside his desk and sat down in front of his computer. He was surprised when an hour came and went that Scott hadn't tried to bother him. So much for that babysitting idea. Maybe he’d somehow convinced Derek not to enforce it. Stiles was surprised but not entirely ungrateful. He had a lot of catchup work to do and arguing with his best friend, or whatever pack member was supposed to turn up, wasn't going to help get it done. Even if he was starting to feel slightly guilty at ignoring the pack for the whole afternoon. Opening a text book, Stiles gazed down at the words, just seeing endless lines of black ink instead of actual information. He was going to need some serious caffeine if he was going to tackle this.

 

The energy drinks kept him awake long enough to finish everything he needed to, but Stiles practically collapsed on his bed as soon as he changed. He only woke when he heard an irritating tapping sound interrupting his dreams. He blinked his eyes open slowly, taking in his darkened room, the moonlight shining through and hitting the far wall, casting long shadows across the ceiling. Stiles stumbled out of bed and over to the window, pulling it open and coming face to face with Isaac. "Wha' you doin’ here?" He mumbled sleepily.

"I came to say sorry about earlier. They didn't mean to make you feel left out, but I'm sorry they did." 

Stiles gestured for the tall boy to come in so he could close the window against the cold night air. "S'okay man, I overreacted." Isaac shuffled awkwardly and Stiles fell back into his bed. "'m tired. You can stay here tonight if you want," he mumbled into his pillow. After a few seconds, he felt Isaac slide under the covers and soon enough his breath evened out to match Stiles'.

 

"You have coffee. And you stink," was the first thing Stiles heard when he reached his locker the next morning. His -provisionally on probation- best friend had never really mastered the art of tact. Stiles, sighing, juggled his books and the flask of coffee Isaac had made them both before leaving the house. He purposefully wasn’t looking at the boy next to him. 

"If I was talking to you right now I would tell you how much those statements boost my self confidence.” 

Scott huffed. “C’mon Stiles, you know we didn’t mean anything by it. And it seems like you’ve forgiven Isaac,” Scott’s said bitterly. Stiles slammed his locker shut and turned, looking his friend up and down, eye brows raised. Scott’s outfit was the same as the day before, his plaid over-shirt crinkled and his jeans had an excess number of creases around the thighs.

“By ‘seems’ you mean ‘smells’ right?” Stiles sighed. He couldn’t stay mad at Scott for too long, the boy had puppy eyes and he wasn’t afraid to use them. “You seriously need to work on your subtlety dude, everyone in the corridor saw your nose twitching there and I’m pretty sure that girl thinks you’re coming onto me. Which is fine if that was your intention but honestly dude you’re not my type and it would be kind of strange, and I’d definitely have to tell Allison.” 

Scott, give him his due, waited out the rambling before pulling Stiles into a bear hug and then leaving an arm slung around his shoulders. “I’m sorry dude.” And just like that, they were back to normal. Scott and Stiles, ready to take on the world, one supernatural creature at a time.

 

 

Turns out, it wasn’t a mystical elf or power-hungry witch that caused the next bump in the road of Stiles’ considerably potholed life. It was a very human problem in fact. Getting back onto the lacrosse team.

 

It had been about a week since the hospital stint, or his Temporary Leave From Awesomeness as Stiles liked to call it, and he was ready to get back to normal, or as close to normal as possible. And that included rejoining the lacrosse team and getting back to practicing. He mentioned it to Scott in the morning, and he hadn’t seemed too keen but he knew Stiles, he knew Stiles would do it no matter what he said, so he agreed to go with him to speak to the coach. Finstock hadn’t been as accommodating as Scott had been. 

 

“Didn’t you just get out of hospital Bilinski?” 

Stiles huffed. “It’s Stilinski Coach, with an ‘S’,” he muttered, already knowing it would be ignored or forgotten by their eccentric teacher.

“I can’t have you messing with my insurance policies Bilinski. A sick player is just as useless as an injured one,” he paused and looked at Stiles critically. “Well, more useless than before.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes. “I’m fine Coach! I have a note from my doctor saying I’m perfectly healthy enough to play lacrosse again and I just want to go back to normal.” 

Scott snorted quietly at that and Stiles elbowed him. The Coach still frowned at them from across his desk, hands clasped on the wood surface, obscured by the mountains of paperwork piling up around him. Stiles had sort of lied about the Doctor’s note. He actually wasn’t going until the next day, but Finstock didn’t need to know that.

“Fine! Get out on that field Bilinski and don’t make me regret it.”

Stiles grinned and threw his fist into the air. Now all he had to do was keep himself from being benched again this season.

 

Erica, Allison and Lydia had made it a habit to come out and watch the afternoon lacrosse practices when they didn’t have anything on after school. With more than half the pack on the team, it was almost like pack bonding time happened during training as well as the werewolf play fighting time at Derek’s. There were positives and negatives with playing against people who had heightened senses that basically made them ninjas. Stiles often found himself disheartened when he would constantly get tackled by Jackson, or miss yet another goal against Scott, but most of the time it only encouraged him to try harder, be better. And then when he was put against, say, Danny, he would own it. After his Temporary Leave From Awesomeness Stiles was doubley determined to improve. 

 

He followed Scott as they made their way onto the field and over to the girls sitting on the lowest tier of the bleachers, Isaac, Jackson and Boyd already there. Boyd was listening to Erica speak her mind about something or other, but she stopped when she saw Stiles there. “What are you doing here?” She asked.

“I’m on the team?” Stiles replied, confused.

“Are you sure you should be back to playing again so soon?” Isaac shuffled under Stiles’ glare. 

“Seriously? I’m underweight, not dying here!” He threw his arms in the air, his stick almost whacking an approaching Jackson around the face. 

He rolled his eyes. “You guys are so over protective it’s gag-inducing. Just let Stilinski play, what’s the worst that could happen?” Ignoring the fact that Jackson had said those words with a look that basically promised he would tackle Stiles the second he got the chance, and the fact this was _Jackson_ , Stiles had to be thankful someone was on his side.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but,” Scott muttered angrily, “I’m on Jackson’s side here.” Said boy looked overly smug at the turn of events, and Scott grimaced as if the words had tasted bad in his mouth. Stiles grinned at him, officially declaring that Scott was off probation and was back to being his best friend again.

 

In retrospect, perhaps going up against built lacrosse players, some with added werewolf strength and not afraid to use it, after losing a lot of his own muscle mass, was probably not one of Stiles’ best ideas. But it felt normal again, being slammed to the ground by Jackson within two minutes of starting practice, having Finstock blow his whistle and shout so often it felt like he never actually took a breath. It was normal and it was exactly what Stiles had needed. After yet another meeting with the hard grassy pitch, Stiles didn’t need to look up to know the pack was angry at Greenberg, and probably about to go all furry beasts on his ass. The fall hadn’t even been Greenberg’s fault really, Stiles had tripped, as per normal. He pushed himself up and shook his head at Isaac who had Greenberg by his jersey. Finstock was shouting and trying to pull the two apart, but it wasn’t until Stiles rolled his eyes and yanked Isaac back did the boy actually let go. 

 

Jackson only managed to get one more tackle in before the end of practice. And even if Finstock hadn’t called an end at that point, Stiles was sure he wouldn’t have been shoved again without Isaac and Scott wolfing out and endangering everyone. He felt a warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach at the idea of them caring enough to be so protective, but it was overshadowed by his bruised ego and stubborn will to not be the damsel in distress of their friendship group, fragile human or not. He told the pair such, and they nodded along but he knew it wouldn’t change a thing. Stiles was pretty sure he wouldn’t be able to teach old dogs any new tricks there. He grinned at his own joke as he changed and wandered over to where Boyd had just finished tying his shoes. Stiles was about 84% certain the silent werewolf didn’t like him, but he tried none the less. 

 

“Hey Boyd! How’s it going?” He simply got a stare back before Boyd glanced back down at his phone. “So,” Stiles started awkwardly, leaning against a locker and hoisting his gym bag up higher on his shoulder. “What’s the plan for tonight? I don’t have any food in the house, well, nothing I can cook anyway, so maybe we should just get a take away?” Another stare. “Or not. That’s cool too. Anything you want man.” Stiles held his hands up in defence but Boyd didn’t even crack a smile. “Come on Boyd! I’m really trying here man and you’re giving me nothing!” 

Finally, Boyd slid his phone into his pocket and rolled his eyes at Stiles. “He was right, you do ramble when you’re uncomfortable.” He didn’t give Stiles a chance to respond to that. “I’m not coming round tonight, I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Stiles stared at Boyd’s retreating back in confusion. “Wait, who was right? Boyd? How are you getting home?!” All he got was silence. “Fine! I don’t need your stupid babysitting anyway! This is what I wanted in the first place!” He called out to the empty locker room, but he knew Boyd would still be able to hear, and hopefully other werewolves in the vicinity would too. His heartbeat would have given him away, but there was no one there to call him up on it.

 

 

Stiles wasn’t even that surprised when he walked into his room after getting home and came face to face with one Derek Hale. Of course the Alpha wouldn’t let him have just one evening to himself. And here he was thinking Boyd had actually done it in a friendship sort of way, but obviously not. Stiles was pushed back against the door, Derek’s hand fisted in his shirt and holding him against the wood firmly, face inches from his own. A sense of déjà vu hit Sties as he remembered when they had last been in that position. Although last time he had been a bit too worried with the fact a fugitive was hiding out in his room and his father was right downstairs to realise how intimate the position was.

 

“Back to using the window then I guess?” He tried to keep his voice steady and his mind away from any of the thoughts he had just been having.

“Lacrosse? You thought that would be a good idea?” Derek growled out.

“Well, it was, until a certain asshole decided his wolf strength was hilarious and me spending half the time on the ground even more so.” Stiles thought he heard Derek growl out Jackson’s name but it was too low to make sure.

“You’re still an idiot for playing. You aren’t allowed to yet, your doctor’s appointment isn’t until tomorrow.”

“I may be mistaken,” Stiles smirked. “But is that a hint of concern I hear Derek? Are you worried about my safety?” 

Derek narrowed his eyes and gave Stiles his death glare. “One of us has to be or you’ll get yourself killed.” 

Stiles grinned and Derek glared some more. “I’m all for staying alive and everything-”

“Are you?” Derek asked under his breath, and Stiles ignored it, certain it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“But I’m pretty sure lacrosse isn’t going to do much worse than a few healthy bruises every now and then.” 

Derek huffed, and his breath washed over Stiles suddenly. No, not allowed those thoughts, he reminded himself. Derek stepped back and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “It’s not once in a while Stiles.”

“Well it would be if I wasn’t playing against a bunch of supernatural beings. Maybe if you told your puppies to be more careful-” Derek growled then, the noise rumbling from his chest and stopping Stiles short. Stiles shook his head and turned to his chest of drawers. He pulled out a t-shirt and some clean joggers. “I shouldn’t have to stop doing what I love because of it. I know it’s not their fault most of the time but still, you can’t persuade me to give it up Derek.” Stiles said much more calmly, turning back to man. Derek was watching him with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’ll deal with it.” He replied finally. Stiles smiled, albeit more weary than before. His body was starting to catch up with itself, the aches making themselves known.

“I’m going to go shower, I’m guessing you’ll be around this evening instead of Boyd?” There was no verbal confirmation but Stiles took Derek’s expression as one and left him to it.

 

His shower was hot and relaxing. He washed slowly, wanting to spend as much time under the hot spray as possible. His back was sore, and his shoulder had the starting of a bruise stretching across the top of it, turning his pale skin an angry red colour. “Freakin’ werewolves,” Stiles grumbled as he towelled off and slipped into the clothes he had brought into the bathroom with him. He was muttering about getting his own back on Jackson when he followed the smell of something good cooking. Derek was in the kitchen by the stove, stirring a pan of the delicious smelling substance. Stiles had to admit he liked the sight, Derek actually looking relaxed for once, and completely at home in his kitchen. He didn’t want to think what that meant. Finishing rubbing his hair with the towel, Stiles chucked it over the back of one of the chairs. 

“Put it in the wash,” Derek said without even looking round. Stiles huffed but stayed in the doorway. “Your dad will be annoyed when he comes home and finds it there,” he added. Stiles groaned dramatically and flounced over to the towel, making a point to whip round and smack Derek with it on his way out. 

“I’m not even going to ask how you know that!” He said as he left the room. He didn’t need to speak any louder, Derek would hear him. Stiles didn’t hear a reply, but he did get a glare when he returned, though it was only half-hearted, lacking in it’s usual heat. “So, whatcha cooking?” Stiles pulled himself up onto the counter beside Derek and watched. 

“Spaghetti Bolognese. It’s all you had in the house. We’ll have to get more stuff at some point.” Stiles smiled at how Derek had assumed it would be them together going to get the food for the house, not his father or him on his own. 

It was nice. Not normal, but nice.

“Sounds good. I’m going to do some homework, call me when it’s done?” 

Derek nodded and Stiles hopped back off the worktop and padded out the room again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, some Derek interactions, a bit of pack drama and the Stiles/Isaac friendship development :) The plot will start to thicken next chapter, do not fret! We will have some action in this tale too, it won't all be angst and teen drama. 
> 
> Thank you to those who have reviewed and kudos'd and shown an interest in this. I can't believe I started writing this in 2014 and am only now getting around to doing anything with it. Ah well, better late than never. Next chapter will be up probably this time next week or slightly before, so keep reading and giving love and all that jazz until then!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a lil warning - there is a scene with some graphic content (blood etc) in this chapter. It's not too bad, but thought I should give a heads up!

 

* * *

 

Pack meetings were regular but never really that formal. The teenagers would usually meet at Derek's loft and discuss with him briefly if anything new had happened or if they had spotted anything unusual. The last couple of months, the answer was almost always no, and they'd end up grouped together around the TV watching a movie or playing on the Xbox. When the answer was yes, Derek would take one or two of them and go check whatever it was out. They hadn't actually come up with anything more unusual than a few rogue hunters the Argents (under Allison's instructions) had dealt with. They'd finally started to relax, and the real "pack meetings" turned into more pack bonding times. Stiles would sometimes grill Derek for answers to his many werewolf questions until the Alpha got irritated and left to join his betas, and other times he'd sit in the kitchen with Allison and they'd go through all the old books her family owned so Stiles could piece together information. She was usually a lot more helpful than Derek when answering questions, but Stiles preferred the times when Derek would actually sit down opposite him and allow him to take down notes and quiz him further. 

 

Outside of regular meetings, the pack would only gather as a big group when there was immediate danger. By this point, Derek had drilled into them that a pack was strongest when united, so when a threat came around, everyone should know about it, including the non-werewolves. Derek liked to keep them out of danger as much as possible though if and when the fighting started. Of course, Allison had put up a good case for her own presence in those situations, what with her hunter honed archery skills and endless training from her dad. After the pack had forgiven her for the involvement in Gerard's plans, she was then allowed along for their scuffles as well. Stiles, however, had not managed to put up such a good case for himself. Claiming that his awesomeness and pure hilarity would get him through clearly hadn't been good enough, and he had nothing else to really offer. Still, Lydia wasn’t really allowed in the frays either, her banshee skills sporadic at best while she still tried to hone them, so the two of them had grown closer through their exclusion and it had really helped Stiles get over his crush on her. It was annoying that he couldn’t help more, but Stiles begrudgingly saw Derek’s point most of the time. He knew deep down he was more of a liability than anything else most of the time. Stiles was just glad for the times the Alpha would actually allow Scott to tell him what was going on.

 

 

When Scott then called him on Saturday morning, just as he had finished getting dressed, and told him the regular meeting had been changed to the old Hale house instead of Derek’s loft, Stiles didn’t assume anything was wrong. He just pulled a hoodie on as he walked out the door and jumped in his jeep, pulling out his drive in a relaxed manner. When he reached the familiar winding dirt drive, he frowned at the sight of the pack out waiting for him. Scott had an arm around Allison's shoulders, her own wrapped around his waist. Even Lydia was there, standing beside Boyd and Erica who were perched on the wooden steps. Stiles’ eyes drifted to the house itself as he pulled the jeep up towards it. It wasn’t as burnt looking as it once had been. The whole top floor had been taken down, and the builders had started redoing the collapsed walls of the downstairs. It was a mixture of old and new wood so far, nothing looked even close to finishing, but Stiles was sure there would be a complete house by the deadline Derek had given them. Because come on, who would go against Derek when he went all Alpha? Apart from Stiles of course, he just seemed to get away with it.

 

"If I had known this was more urgent I wouldn't have stopped off for breakfast," Stiles joked as he slammed the jeep door closed. At the sound of his voice, Derek stepped out from the house, followed by a grim looking Isaac and surprisingly not cocky looking Jackson. In fact, once Stiles had actually looked, everyone had a morose expression on their face. His joke didn’t get a laugh, not even a mouth twitch from Scott or Allison, who usually found it within themselves to humour him. "Okay, tough crowd. I would ask who died but I'm thinking it’s not going to be as ironic as I would hope." From the looks he received, Stiles realised he'd hit the nail right on the head. Great. "Anyone fancy letting me in on what's going on then?" The pack looked at Derek.

"We found a scent, and we need to look for it."

"What kind of scent? And don't say a bad one because that's almost as unhelpful as I am going to be on this little mission."

Derek rolled his eyes and turned to Isaac. "You go with Stiles and take the direct route and see if you spot anything." 

Isaac nodded and stepped up to Stiles' side so their arms were brushing. 

"Erica, Jackson, Boyd? You take the north path." 

They nodded too and didn't wait for any more to be said before jogging off. Scott shifted impatiently from foot to foot. Allison was much calmer, her steely expression emphasising her determination. When innocent lives were involved, which is what Stiles had guessed this was about, Allison seemed to take it as her personal responsibility. Stiles wondered if she was just trying to make up for the mistakes she made with her grandfather. Erica and Boyd were still very distant from her, and Derek only allowed her around because of Scott and his ties with her. Derek was a good guy really, and Stiles knew he was sacrificing a lot to let a hunter become a semi permanent member of his pack. It was just one of those things that when Stiles had time to mull it over, he realised added to the list of things he admired about Derek Hale.

 

"So you can smell death?" Stiles mused as he and Isaac traipsed through the forest, looking out for any whacky things that could hint towards a brutal murder that apparently Isaac could sniff out. 

"Yeah, it's complicated though. It's not just what you’d think." 

“What, rotting flesh and maggots?”

Isaac grimaced, but nodded. “Yeah. I mean, there is that, but there’s also this lack of life to it.” He frowned. “I’m not sure how to explain it, but it’s almost like we can smell when something doesn’t have life anymore, like it’s lacking something important.”

Stiles hummed, thinking about what the wolf had said. “So, people have an ‘alive’ smell?”

Isaac shrugged, nodding as he looked around them at the surrounding trees. “I guess, yeah. You don’t really notice it though until it’s gone.”

Stiles continued to quiz Isaac on it, asking as much as he could about the smell and what it could mean. The wolf indulged him, trying his best to answer the complicated questions as Stiles’ brain started whirring, taking the ideas and going with them, seeing what they could imply. 

 

They only stopped chatting when Isaac came to an abrupt halt, holding an arm out to stop Stiles too. He held his head to the side, concentrating on something Stiles couldn't hear with his human ears. "What is it?" He hissed. Isaac sniffed. 

"This way," he said, gripping Stiles' wrist and tugging him along the path for another minute before veering off into the undergrowth. They jogged for a good ten minutes, Stiles stumbling over anything remotely in his way and Isaac keeping his nose in the air like a well trained blood hound. 

 

Suddenly, he came to a stop and Stiles almost kept going if it weren’t for that arm stopping him again. Before them was not what should have been in a tranquil woodland setting on the outskirts of a regular California town. Gasping, Stiles took in the horror movie scene in front him. It was only a small clearing, barely ten meters between the towering trees lining it. There were flowers at the bases of each tree, all natural blues and yellows, and Stiles probably would have been able to appreciate the pleasing aesthetic of it all if it weren't for the splattering of crimson blood dousing everything in sight. Everywhere he looked was practically dripping with the thick substance, and the longer Stiles stared the more he saw. Not only was the place painted with the blood of the unfortunate victim, but said victim didn't seem to be left in one piece. In fact, Stiles was pretty sure he could spot at least three different body parts from where he was standing. He looked away, bile rising up his throat. So much for saving his mind from the image of a chopped off arm. Only this time, it didn't look like a hand saw did the job. Isaac was already wolfing out, obviously scanning the area with his senses to see if the murderer was still around. His shoulders relaxed slightly after a couple of tense, silent minutes, which Stiles took to mean they were in the all clear for now. Isaac threw his head back and howled. Stiles barely had time to cover his ears at the sound. 

"A little warning next time dude," Stiles grumbled, a little weakly though due to his queasiness. Isaac shot him an apologetic look before gazing around them again. 

 

They were joined by Derek first, who took in the scene with his usual unreadable expression. Scott, Allison and Lydia were next, all of whom grimaced at the sight and turned their heads away as if they couldn't bare to look for too long. Stiles could sympathise. He was trying to keep his eyes from straying over to the gore, but it was almost as if the area was a magnet for his gaze. Derek hovered close to the five teenagers until the other three arrived, then he shifted back to his human face. His eyes remained that Alpha red colour, but the rest of him seemed calm.

"What was it?" Scott finally asked.

"I don't know, it smells too much like death right now to get a scent."

"Couldn't it have just been a random killing?" Allison asked hopefully. She slipped the knife she had been holding back into it's sheath around her waist. Derek shook his head.

"No, it's got the wrong feeling about it," Isaac answered for him. Stiles stepped around the wolf and started to approach the site. They had to be missing something. Years of observing his dad at scenes kind of like this had taught him to get as much information as possible.

"Stiles." 

He halted, looking over at Derek who had stepped forward, arms folded and glare focused on him.

"What? If your wolfy senses aren't working because of the death overload then maybe it's time for the human to take a peek? Besides, I want to get a good look before my dad and his guys get here." 

 

Stiles ignored the glare then and stepped closer to the scene, cautious about anything jumping out at him. The closer he got, the more he could smell that unforgettable sickly sweet stench of human death. It must have been quite fresh, because when he stepped into the clearing, careful to avoid getting any blood on his shoes or clothes, it didn't smell like anything had started to decay yet. Stiles tried desperately to observe the scene from a completely professional perspective. The random body parts scattered around were not helping, but he could feel the pack's eyes on him and he didn't want to chuck up his guts in front of them. No need to reaffirm their worries that all this was too much for him. His dad had taught him a few things when Stiles had begged to know more, and as he grew older he picked up more than his dad cared to share with him. So it was time to put those into practice.

 

 

After a few more minutes of critically inspecting the area, he stood up straight again and made his way back to the pack. They were all frowning at him, and Scott didn't hesitate to place a hand on his shoulder as soon as Stiles was stood beside him again. It was simply there to reassure himself that his best friend was okay. Stiles was so used to the werewolf habits by now he didn't even notice them half the time. "It's only a few hours old at most right? I'm guessing the kid was lured here before the attack, and there was a struggle, because they couldn't have been dead already with all those markings on the furthest tree over there. Maybe they were on their way back from somewhere? It would be easier to know if today was a school day, then we could confirm a time of death and exact age of them without my dad's forensic contacts getting involved." He rambled to keep his thoughts straight. The lack of Adderall in his system wasn't helping his thought process, and speaking out loud kept everything fresh. Stiles didn't even realise his friends were staring at him until Allison spoke up.

"How do you know it was a teenager?" 

Stiles stopped frowning at the ground to look up at her. "The clothes, but I can't be sure. I think they were wearing a hoodie, the same as one of mine. I'm guessing an adult wouldn't wear something like that, so the best bet is they were around our age." 

Jackson scoffed. "Since when did you become an expert in detective work?" 

Despite the situation they were in, Stiles couldn't help but smile at the poorly disguised respect and shock. "My dad is the Sheriff, and I am cursed with unrelenting curiosity. I think it's a side effect of being a genius." Another scoff but Scott snorted beside him. He knew all too well about Stiles' curiosity of everything his dad did. It had gotten them into more trouble than he'd care to admit. 

"Well that's all great that we now have our own Sherlock Holmes but what the hell did this?!" Erica gestured to the clearing. No one seemed to have an answer for her.

 

"I don't see why we're still standing here. Can't we just go find it and kill it so I get on with life and you lot can go back to not having one?" Despite his word choice, Derek appeared to agree with Jackson. Stiles' heart jumped. They knew nothing about the creature that had done this, and they were just about to go galavanting in the woods after it? Not a good idea. Everything in Stiles was screaming at him that this was one of the stupidest ideas they had ever come up with. Of course it would come from Jackson. The pack started to move, all following their Alpha's lead.

 

"Wait! Guys wait!" Stiles was the only one still in place. The others just ignored him, starting to regroup and silently agree which route they would take. " _Oh for the love of-_ Would you lot stop for one second?!" Stiles cried, exasperated. That seemed to make them pause. "What the hell do you think you'll achieve dashing off into the woods without any clue of what you're hunting? Do you really think you'll come out on top in this? If that thing finds you first, you're all dead. End of story." Derek was scowling at him menacingly. Maybe Stiles was insulting his Alpha-ness or something? Well, tough luck Sourwolf, it was time Stiles put his foot down in these matters. "You're not going anywhere before I've at least attempted some research." 

Derek snarled. The others just looked confused and torn. "We need to go find who did this," Derek growled out. 

Stiles shook his head and stepped forward. “No. What you need to do is protect your pack, and running in there blind is probably the worst decision you could make.” 

 

Derek was suddenly in his personal space, face inches from Stiles’, breath huffing in and out, blowing across Stiles’ face. They stared, neither willing to back down. “And what do you know about protecting my pack?” 

Stiles restrained himself from biting out a sassy reply about how, without him and his research, they wouldn’t have known how to kill half the stuff they had dealt with, and took a calming breath. “Just let me look some stuff up, get at least an idea about what we’re up against. They may be expecting you to go running after them, and this could give us the element of surprise.” 

Derek hesitated for a second longer than necessary before stepping away and scowling some more. Without saying another word, he turned and stormed away, back in the direction Stiles guessed was where they had parked the cars. Stiles sagged against a tree, running a hand over his face tiredly.

“You okay Stiles?” Scott asked cautiously. 

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, I- can we just get out of here? I can’t deal with this smell anymore.” The pack all nodded, and lead the way back. Everyone was pretty much silent, and Stiles was glad once he managed to clamber into his jeep. Scott climbed in on the other side and pulled Allison onto his lap. Stiles usually would kick up a fuss about the danger, but he was too tired to care. So he just drove them back to Scott’s and waved half heartedly before turning around and heading back up the road.

 

 

“I’m not leaving this bed so you can fuck off now.” Stiles was feeling exceptionally bad that morning. He had a pounding headache, his mind was groggy from lack of sleep, and his nightmares were replaying in his mind like a broken record. He really didn’t need a werewolf tapping incessantly on his window to be let in, nor did he need to deal with any of their problems for at least twelve hours. Rationally, he knew it was probably just Scott or Isaac checking in on him or coming for their babysitting duties, but he couldn’t help but feel it was like they were purposefully there to make him feel even worse. When the noise stopped, Stiles sighed and burrowed back under his covers, trying to block out the sunlight creeping through his blinds. When his bedroom door opened, he was too irritated with whoever it was to show his face, wanting to spite them for ruining his already terrible morning.

 

“Look, I feel like shit okay so if you could just report back to Derek that I’m not dead and leave me to wallow in self pity that would be greatly appreciated.” The person didn’t reply, and Stiles probably should have started to panic that it could be that murderer come to get him but he was too tired to even care. Suddenly, his sheets were ripped away from his body. Stiles shot up, turning to give the wolf a mouthful but stopped short when he saw leather-clad Derek where he had expected Scott to be standing. His anger started to seep out, and was replaced by the overwhelming tiredness again. He couldn’t be dealing with this right now. If Derek wanted to get back at him for what he had said yesterday, couldn’t he just do it later? He asked the man that, but Derek simply raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s 11am and you need to get up and eat something.” 

Stiles glowered and couldn’t help but flush hotly when Derek’s eyes drifted down to his bare chest briefly before flicking back up to his face. “I haven’t got anything planned for today,” he stated.

“Now you do. You said you wanted to research? Then you can, but at my house.”

“Why the hell would I do that? You have no wi-fi and none of my books are there.” 

Derek turned back to the door. “We’re keeping an eye on everyone, as a safety precaution, because I’m protecting my pack.” He left, leaving Stiles confused, mildly proud of himself and slightly turned on.

 

 

The pack had been in various positions of idle repose when Stiles had arrived, though he did notice Lydia had managed to get out of this forced gathering somehow. He wasn’t surprised. She always knew how to get her way, even when it came it Derek’s rule. 

 

The Hale house surprisingly looked more built than when Stiles last saw it, the front had more framework done and there was a larger pile of scorched wood by the tree line. Had Derek worked on it overnight? He wouldn't be surprised, the wolf had to do something with all that copious spare time he had. They must have sensed something was wrong, because both Isaac and Erica leapt up and greeted Stiles as soon as he was out of his jeep - those two had always been the most astute of the pack. Derek looked over at them and Stiles was almost certain he saw a flash of pride in the Alpha's eyes for his attentive betas. 

 

"You alright Stiles?" Erica asked, her voice actually sounding concerned for once. He nodded, shooting her a reassuring smile that probably looked more like a grimace before heading round and grabbing the books he had brought in his trunk. There were only a few that could help, and he'd have to do everything else on his crappy phone Internet while he was metaphorically handcuffed to the Hale property. Maybe Derek would actually handcuff him to the building if he tried to run away? Oh god, now his head was filled with very inappropriate thoughts involving Derek and handcuffs and Stiles should probably distract himself because he was pretty sure werewolves could smell arousal. He had no idea why there would even be any arousal to smell, but that was not a topic he was willing to think about while his head pounded against his eye sockets. He'd add it to the ever growing list of problems he liked to ignore and hope just went away on their own, his exhaustion topping it in that moment. There was nothing Derek could have done about his sleepless night, but he had practically force fed Stiles two slices of toast before they headed out the door. Irritating Sourwolf, Stiles grumbled and hauled his books over to the wooden steps.

 

 

Stiles had been pouring over the volumes for hours. The pack had planned a training session while they were all being kept in sight, and that had been happening in the clearing before him, sometimes distracting him from his work but more often than not it provided somewhat comforting background noise. If growls and snarls and clashing teeth and ripping of clothes could be considered comforting. He was pretty sure that idea alone should have him committed. About an hour in and everyone except Erica had forgone their tattered shirts completely. Allison had looked up at that, finally being pulled away from the chemistry homework she had been focused on. She eyed them all appreciatively and Stiles felt betrayed for his best friend. 

Allison seemed to catch on to his expression and giggled. "I'm allowed to admire physique Stiles, Scott knows I love him the most." 

Stiles rolled his eyes but cracked a grin for his fellow human friend. 

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed they are all completely buff."

Stiles spluttered for a second and hoped the werewolves were too distracted by their play fighting to be listening in. "I've compared them to my complete human inadequacy if that's what you mean."

She raised an eyebrow but ignored his flushed cheeks for the most part, just turning back to her notes again.

 

 

"That's it, I'm done here," Stiles declared, slamming the last book shut and tucking the notes he'd made into a random page to keep safe. The training, which had turned from fighting to playing werewolf tag, came to a halt as they all looked over to Stiles. He opened his rucksack and shoved as many books that would fit in there before zipping it up and staggering to his feet. After sitting for so long his muscles ached and his bones popped as Stiles stretched. Scott bounded over.

"Where are you going?" He asked, his tone almost whiny.

"I can't do any more with what I've got here, but I think I know where I could find something." Stiles patted his friend's shoulder. He didn't realise the rest of the pack had made their way over until he heard Jackson's grating voice way closer than he expected. Closer than anyone should have to be when Jackson was being insufferable, which was about 98% of the time. The other 2% was when he was asleep, because surprisingly Jackson was strangely adorable and innocent while he slept. It probably had something to do with the fact he had his mouth shut. 

"But we're having bonding time," Scott pointed out in that confused puppy voice that Stiles knew was his weakness. Thankfully Scott wasn't privy to that knowledge yet, and Stiles wanted to keep it that way. Who knew what would happen if Scott actually realised how adorable he could be.

"No, you're having puppy playtime while Allison and I could easily be plotting your ultimate demise and you would have no idea." Scott looked like he had been kicked. God what was with those brown eyes? "I'm kidding by the way, we're merely planning how to take over the world." Stiles amended after noticing the wary looks the wolves were shooting an innocent Allison. At least that got a chuckle out of Isaac.

 

"He's right Stiles, you shouldn't leave." Stiles eyebrows shot up at Derek.

"Woah woah woah. Hold up." He threw his arms out in front of himself and flailed them around a little for dramatic effect. "Did you just agree with Scott on something?"

Derek gave him a withering look which Stiles didn't even bother to acknowledge, far too used to the expression by now. 

"The book store is only an hour drive from here, I'm just going to head over and pick it up, I've already ordered it," he finished, half proud that he'd thought to do that. The pack still looked anxious, but were waiting for their Alpha to give his opinion.

Derek sighed and shook his head, but seemed resigned to Stiles' stubbornness. "Fine, take Erica and Isaac with you, but if there's any sign of trouble you listen to them, understand?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "You're paranoid Sourwolf, we'll be gone three hours tops."

"Why can't I go?" Scott whined.

"You're staying here to run perimeters with the others." 

Scott looked like he wanted to protest, but one look at his Alpha made him close his mouth with a frown. Allison patted him on the back gently, which seemed to make him brighten slightly. Stiles clapped his hands together and started towards his jeep.

"Alright then," he started but Derek cut him off.

"Take the Camaro." 

Stiles stopped dead in his tracks and turned, not caring to hide the look of shock on his face. Derek Hale had just offered him, _Stiles Stilinski,_ his precious car to actually use. 

"Isaac is the only one allowed to drive," Derek added quickly, obviously seeing the ideas already crossing Stiles' mind of what he could do with that car. Isaac looked surprised but pleased, unconsciously standing taller at the obvious trust from his Alpha. 

"You can't keep me from that car forever Sourwolf, one day I will drive it," Stiles called over his shoulder as he headed back towards the left side of the house where Derek would tuck his car away now the makeshift garage had been torn down. Isaac and Erica scurried after him and Stiles heard Derek start to give the others orders on where to patrol. He smiled to himself, happy that the wolf had trusted him enough to do this when they were all on such high alert. Either Derek was beginning to appreciate Stiles wasn't incapable, or he simply had given up caring about his well being. But from the forced breakfast that morning, and all the other meals the last few weeks, Stiles would like to assume it was the former.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I may now live in the US and have tried to convert over the best I can, but I'm still a Brit and some English words may have managed to creep into this story. Sorry to anyone that finds it a bit jarring! I have made sure I've kept it at a minimum though :) 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter - again, next one will be up in about a week from now!


	5. Chapter 5

 

* * *

 

  

The bookstore looked normal from the outside - typical worn out lettering above the shopfront making up the name that was a half-assed attempt at a pun, probably not even amusing to the creator. The window display was unassuming, just a small outdated stand for a novel released a year ago and an assortment of second hand cookbooks and classics piled high, a hand written sign above them, stuck to the glass, reading ' _Good condition pre-owned books here!'_. The inside was similarly reserved, old fashioned in a comforting way with a musty smell from unturned pages. There were rows of books stacked to eye level, not much of a system visible but Stiles was sure the owner knew the location of every book in there. The owner of the book shop was not what people would expect looking at it. She looked to be in her early forties at most, long brown hair always pulled back into a loose ponytail and a slender frame that was deceptively strong - something Stiles had seen last time he was here and witnessed the woman carry a whole box of new arrivals from the van out front to the back room.

 

But, this bookstore was about as ordinary as most things in Stiles’ life. It was a real store that sold genuinely boring books, but behind the facade it was a hub of supernatural knowledge, selling all kinds of volumes to buyers in the know, ranging from basic lore tomes to intricately decorated witch journals, containing highly dangerous spells and potions in the wrong hands. What Stiles had ordered though was an old beastiary, one of very few copies that were available and filled with information on creatures no one had seen in half a century. He glanced around the front part of the shop where they were hovering, trying to spot Ms Ripley crouched down at one of the shelves. Stiles noticed Erica and Isaac exchanging looks, shifting uncomfortably, Isaac’s hands twitching every 30 seconds, a nervous habit he had retained from his human years. Stiles frowned, but guessed the wolves were just trying to keep on high alert like Derek wanted. He had always got calm feelings at the store. Shuffling around the first shelf of books, Stiles saw a vaguely familiar young woman inspecting a case near the back, her wispy blonde hair covering half her face as she stood on her tiptoes to see the top few novels. Making their way around the cramped room, Stiles smiled at the woman in greeting, but she merely frowned in confusion at his pleasantries.

 

"Ah, Mr Stilinski." 

The wolves turned sharply, Erica almost catching Ms Ripley with one of her hands, claws most likely extended automatically at the shock. The shop owner did not flinch, only half smiled, like she had expected it all along. 

"Come to collect your book?" She asked quietly.

Stiles nodded and she gestured them into the back room through a door that most certainly hadn't been there before Ms Ripley had pointed it out. She lead them deeper until they reached a small counter with only one book on top. It was clearly old, much older than anything Stiles had purchased from here before. The worn cover had an intricate vine pattern weaving through the leather, thorns and flowers intertwined so until closer viewing, you couldn't tell them apart. Ms Ripley fingered the book softly, lovingly, and smiled at it.

"This has personal value," she explained in her vague way. At Stiles' inquisitive expression, she elaborated. "My daughter loved this one, it was always her first request for bedtime stories."

"Oh," Stiles stepped back from the table. "I can't take this from you then," he said quickly.

"Oh no, this isn't my copy," Ms Ripley shook her head. "My daughter was buried with mine." As she said it, she looked over Stiles' right shoulder and an unreadable look swept over her face. Stiles frowned and looked over, but all he saw was the back of the blonde woman's head. It seemed she had been peeking into the room from the doorway, and had turned as soon as she had been caught. She glanced over again, but this time, when she saw Stiles watching her, she didn't turn. She stared back, frowning deeply. Not wanting to be rude, Stiles broke the gaze and was surprised to see Ms Ripley giving him the same expression. Uncomfortable, Stiles did what he does best.

"Wow, I'm sorry about your daughter ma'am. I didn't realise they let you bury someone with items, is that normal? Well," he rambled, "I think I had a great uncle once who wanted to be buried with all his money in cash, but I'm not sure what his reasoning was, or if he was actually allowed in the end." Ms Ripley had finally stopped giving him that look, which made Stiles pause. He then remembered Erica and Isaac beside him, and they were looking increasingly uncomfortable in the room. "I think we should be going," Stiles suggested.

"I think that would be best," Ms Ripley replied, also looking at the wolves. She picked up the book, wrapped it in a velvet cover, and handed it to Stiles carefully. "Take care Mr Stilinski."

Stiles nodded at her and turned to leave. As he reached the door to the main store though, he noticed the woman standing just passed it, no longer looking at the books but staring straight at him. As he approached, she didn't move. They were almost face to face when finally he had to say "excuse me", and only after a long pause did she step out of the way.

 

 

Only when they were all in the car and heading back towards Beacon Hills did Stiles start talking. The other two had been so tense when they left the shop they had refused to start any sort of conversation until they were somewhere familiar, and defensible Stiles assumed.

"So, what's got you two so weird?" He asked. They both were still frowning, but Erica seemed to be loosening up the further away they got.

"It didn't feel good in there," she told him unhelpfully. 

"Well, I mean, Ms Ripley can be kinda weird I guess, and who knows what was with that blonde woman, but it's usually a pretty cool place," Stiles tried to defend it. He really did usually have a good time there. Both wolves had turned to stare at him, which was worrying considering Isaac was supposed to be watching the road. Maybe wolf senses were good for driving too?

"What woman?" Erica asked.

Stiles raised his eyebrows. "I don't know, maybe the only other one in the store," he said sarcastically. Erica and Isaac shared a look.

"Stiles, there wasn't anyone else in the shop," Isaac told him carefully.

"It was just us," Erica added. 

Stiles shook his head. "Guys, cut it out. She was literally right there, I had to ask her to move as we left!" They still looked at him like he was going mad. "Are you serious? You guys didn't see her?" They both shook their heads. Stiles wondered briefly if maybe he had been hallucinating, but then remembered Ms Ripley had definitely looked at the woman too. His mind started spinning, desperately trying to come up with some explanation as to why he had seen this mysterious woman and the others hadn't. Maybe it was something to do with their wolfy-ness. Maybe it was a strong spell, so only humans could see her? She could have easily been a witch who wanted to avoid other supernatural creatures. But the longer Stiles pondered it, the less he was convinced of this theory. He was almost 100% sure that Ms Ripley was some sort of supernatural being, though he still hadn't worked out quite what yet (his money was on witch), so she shouldn't have been able to see the woman either. He needed an explanation, one that didn't involve him losing his mind.

 

Derek was waiting outside the front door when they arrived. His arms were folded, and that familiar scowl was set in place. It was his grumpy pose, meaning he at least had a feeling something weird had happened. Stiles wanted to groan. Of course the Alpha would know when his pack was feeling edgy. Isaac pulled the Camaro up to the front porch instead of taking it around to its normal parking space. Both he and Erica jumped out the car and headed straight to Derek, bowing their heads in a submissive greeting. Stiles took longer to get out the car, not wanting the lecture that was bound to happen. He saw Derek greet both the betas briefly, and they made their way inside. Derek however did not follow. With arms still crossed, he watched Stiles with trained eyes. Stiles sighed. Clambering out of the car, he put a grin on his face as he approached the other man. Derek did not grin back.

"Hey Sourwolf," Stiles greeted.

"Care to explain why you stink of witch?" Derek asked with a perfectly raised eyebrow. Witch, Stiles knew he'd been right.

"In my defence, I didn't know for certain that was what she was." Stiles held up his hands in surrender but it didn't make Derek look any less stern. "Oh c'mon Sourwolf, how was I supposed to get the sort of book we needed without consulting some questionable characters? And Ms Ripley is actually rather nice, as witches go I mean."

Derek growled. "You got my betas in a state of panic, I don't think she was as nice as you seem to believe."

"You worry too much, it's rubbing off on them." Stiles shrugged. "Nothing bad happened, and now I can actually find out what we're dealing with if you'd stop harassing me and let me do my job."

"This isn't your responsibility Stiles."

Stiles glared at the man in front of him. "I don't care if you don't think I should be involved with this pack, or help out. Those are my friends and they're in danger, I'm going to do everything in my power, as always, not to let anything happen to them. God," Stiles threw up his hands. "You need to make up your mind! One minute I'm being dragged here for my protection like I'm part of this pack, next you're treating me like I shouldn't even bother coming." Derek looked like he wanted to say something but Stiles shook his head, suddenly feeling exhausted. "I can't be assed to deal with this right now, I'm going home." He turned and headed towards his jeep. "If anyone follows me I will murder you with my wolfsbane bat, and don't think I'm kidding." 

Surprisingly, no one followed.

 

 

His dad was still at the station by the time Stiles got home. It wasn't a shock, since the whole department was on the same case they were, and the Sheriff had every available man patrolling the neighbourhoods while this psycho killer was loose. Obviously they had no idea that if they actually came across the murderer, they'd have no hope in hell, but Stiles couldn't exactly tell his dad that. So instead he just had to work out what it was before something like that happened. In his room, he sat cross legged on his bed, grabbed his notepad full of scribbled notes and half thoughts already, and took the beastiary out of its cover. He flipped open to the index and found the parchment like paper was covered in neat, italicised handwriting. The person who must have wrote it had put each supernatural creature they had documented into a category, grouping them together Stiles guessed by similarity. It was hard to tell though, because each header was in Ancient Greek. He groaned. He'd done French, German, hell, he'd become almost as good as Lydia in Latin, but he hadn't done Ancient Greek before. It was going to be a long night.

 

Pulling out his computer, he started to decode the first few headers. Stiles had always picked up languages easily. His mother had taught him Polish as he was growing up, and he'd breezed through all the French classes school could throw at him. When he'd started doing research for the pack, he hadn't had a problem with the books he was finding. Then they had to start digging deeper, get further into the archives Derek had managed to preserve of the Hales', and Stiles was having to learn Latin. But he did it, for the pack. _Just like always_ , he thought bitterly, but shook himself. He knew they appreciated it, or at least Scott did. And Allison, he was almost sure. Derek however, Stiles had no idea. One moment he was needed and the next he was excluded, he felt used and betrayed and just _tired_ _all the time_. He had thought things had changed since his time in hospital, but maybe not. Maybe everything was exactly the same, and he'd have to go back to sleepless nights and endless coffee only to be met with cold indifference at best, almost resentment at worst.

 

Stiles jumped at a gentle rap on the window. He turned, but there was no face there to greet him, apologetic look in place and words of repent ready to soften him up. Instead, from what Stiles could tell, it was only an overgrown branch of a nearby tree, stretching its fingers in the wind. Stiles wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved. He turned back to the book. He'd finally worked out the section he wanted first: Blood and Flesh Feeders. Every ancient civilisation had a theory or two about creatures that drained their victim's body dry. There were a few varieties in the Beastiary, but it wasn't quite what Stiles was looking for. The victim they’d found in the woods definitely didn’t have their blood sucked, there was far too much of it caked over the surrounding foliage. So he skipped over until he found the flesh eaters. There were two that the book mentioned who could fit the bill. The Lamiai came from the myth of a beautiful woman, cursed by Zeus’ wife Hera to kill her young and forever grieve their death, taking her pain out on other’s children as retribution. The other, commonly mistaken with Lamia, were empousai, who, from what Stiles could tell, seduced and fed on young men. The book gave details about the myths they came from, but wasn’t specific enough for him to be able differentiate between the two. Both could explain the mess they had found in the woods. And, honestly, both of them sounded terrifying. From what Stiles had translated, it seemed they were both shape shifters in the legends, able to change into different forms to lure their prey in. He wasn’t sure how accurate any of it was though. The book was so old, it wasn’t really able to give any details on what either creature would be like in the modern world. They seemed to be mythic even back then, barely anyone meeting one and living to tell the tale. There was also nothing on their weaknesses, except for some indecipherable symbols that Stiles couldn’t find anywhere online. It was incredibly frustrating. But, at least he had an idea now of what they most probably were dealing with. An Ancient Greek demigod. Excellent.

 

He found his head falling onto the book before him in the early hours of the morning. Welcoming the exhaustion, Stiles pushed his research to the side and curled up at the bottom of his bed, his head burrowing into a pillow and falling asleep almost instantly. He dreamed of monsters and shapes shifting in the shadows, teeth shining through the haze of dreams. But nothing came for him, so he was allowed to sleep for longer than he had in a while, for which he was grateful. As long as the adrenaline didn’t start pumping around his system, he could rest.

 

 

Stiles woke to the smell of bacon the next morning. A truly wonderful smell to wake up to, but in his household, bacon was banned unless he was the one cooking it. His dad knew he wasn't allowed it, but Stiles guessed the Sheriff didn't realise he was home. Sliding out of bed, Stiles crept out of his room and down the stairs, wanting to catch his dad in the act. The scene that greeted him in the kitchen was one he never thought he'd see. His dad was standing by the stove, bacon sizzling away in the pan. He had coffee in one hand and was facing the kitchen table. At the table sat Derek Hale, dressed in his usual leather jacket and black jeans, but a splash of colour for once in the form of his maroon t-shirt. He also had a coffee in hand, though it looked basically untouched. Both looked up at him as he gawked in the doorway.

"Ah, Stiles," his dad turned back to the bacon and turned it over.

"Dad, what's going on here?" Stiles directed the question at his father, but was staring straight at Derek. The werewolf had the cheek to simply raise an eyebrow inquisitively.

"Derek here was just offering his assistance," the Sheriff nodded towards Derek as he served up the food.

Stiles was looking between them like they were suddenly in an alternate reality. "Derek? Assisting? I'm sorry but I'm having some trouble with this. Since when do you know each other?"

His dad rolled his eyes, setting down his own plate and taking a seat opposite Derek. "Derek heard talk about starting a neighbourhood watch, and he's offered his time to do that. Is that an acceptable reason?"

Stiles was still in the doorway. He was so shocked by the scene that he hadn't even commented on the bacon his dad was now eating. "A neighbourhood watch? For a psycho killer?" He gave a pointed look to Derek, who once again ignored his hint. 

His dad suddenly looked haggard, the stress and late nights visible on his face. "Stiles, the department is stretched thin as it is, some neighbourly help would make things slightly easier." His dad looked pleadingly at him, wanting Stiles to drop it for once.

"Fine," Stiles sighed. "Get the community to help search for some crazy axe murderer without any defence of their own. That's cool." He turned away from the kitchen. "Don't think I'm letting you get away with the bacon," Stiles added, then made his way back upstairs.

 

 

"Thanks for breakfast Sheriff," Stiles heard Derek say from their hallway. The two men had only stayed in the kitchen a few more minutes after Stiles left.

"Sure," the Sheriff replied. "I'll get one of my deputies on the recruitment. Should I send people to yours or..?" The Sheriff trailed off.

"The house is a building site at the moment, we're- I'm still renovating so they should probably be sent here," Derek said gruffly. Stiles was surprised how well the Alpha was doing with the amount of conversation he was having to participate in. It was probably the most he'd heard Derek say to an outsider in, well, ever.

"Alright, well I'll give you a call when we've got some takers."

Stiles heard the front door open and close and then heard the familiar sound of his dad clipping on his belt and unhooking his jacket. 

"Stiles!" His dad called up the stairs. "I'm heading out, I'll be back before dinner." And with that, the front door slammed shut a second time.

 

Stiles was unsurprised when minutes later he heard his window slide open. Derek straightened up and looked over at him.

"What the hell was that about?" Stiles demanded.

"What was what about?" Derek did that irritating eyebrow raise again.

"Oh drop the innocent act Derek, my dad's not around anymore," Stiles bit out coldly.

Derek folded his arms. "This takes some pressure off your father, I thought you'd be pleased."

Stiles scoffed. "Pleased that you're going to get the community killed? This is some weird apology Derek, even for you."

The wolf huffed angrily. "This isn't just about that," he said through gritted teeth. “There was already talk of setting one up, and this way, we know where everyone will be and we can have the pack watching their backs. I can organise it so none of them are really in a dangerous place. And we’ll get the latest information the Department has.” He paused. “The Sheriff has said he'll issue a town wide curfew if another victim shows up."

Stiles wanted to say something sarcastic in reply, but Derek's plan was actually pretty good once he thought about it. He finally said, "but this is your way of apologising, isn't it?" Derek growled and Stiles smirked. "Well, it needs some work but thanks Sourwolf."

Derek rolled his eyes. "Tell me what you've got from the book."

Stiles nodded and motioned for Derek to take a seat. He pulled out the notes he'd made the night before and rolled his chair towards Derek. He flicked through a couple of pages before he reached the most recent ones. It was obvious he'd done them last, his tired handwriting scrawled messily across the page, some letters not even reaching the line they were supposed to be resting on. Others were so undefined even Stiles had trouble trying to work out what they were meant to be. He scanned over the page and looked up once he'd worked out most of it. Derek was staring at the page with a crease between his eyebrows. He was obviously trying to work out how someone could even begin to make sense of the stuff Stiles had written down.

"I was tired okay?" Stiles said in defence. "Anyway, here's what I've worked out."

 

After explaining it all to Derek, the wolf leant back and was silent for a few minutes. Stiles let him process all the information. "So how do we kill it?" He finally asked.

Stiles sighed. "See, that's what I don't know. This book gives everything you could need for other creatures, but for lamiai and empusa it's really vague. It's part of the reason I can't work out which one it is." Derek again was silent. Stiles took a breath. "I think I need to go back to the shop," he said hesitantly. Derek instantly tensed up.

"No." He said firmly. 

Stiles threw up his hands. "Why not? It's the only place we've got to look right now!"

"I said no Stiles. You can't be hanging out with witches without protection, and I'm not sending my pack in there."

"Ms Ripley has never been anything but nice to me." Stiles didn't mean to make it sound so sullen. He was trying to go for strong, independent, not spoilt teenager.

"You can look elsewhere. There will be other books." Derek's tone was final.

"You want me to spend hours looking for new books, that may or may not even have any information that we need, instead of just asking a woman I know will have information for us?" Stiles asked incredulously. The pack had no idea how much of his time really went into researching, how difficult it was to even separate the lore from the nonsense people came up with, let alone then picking apart thousands of pages for a measly paragraph on the creature or spell they needed. "I think you should go home Derek," Stiles said more quietly, fingers finding his temple to massage away the headache that was forming. Derek tried opening his mouth to argue but Stiles just shook his head. "I have school tomorrow and I haven't done any of my homework." Stiles turned away and rolled back to his desk. He didn't turn when he heard Derek slowly get up and move over to the window. When he heard it slide shut, he let out a sigh.

 

 

Stiles hadn't slept well that night. His dreams were haunted by women with long, flaming hair and sharp serrated teeth. He had to shake it off as he brushed his teeth and gathered his things together for school. It was only until Stiles got into his jeep did he realise no werewolf had been to babysit him last night. Isaac wasn't even there that morning, coffee in hand. He'd had to make his own, and it was too hot just like always, so he was driving while trying to nurse his burnt tongue and finish the cup without spilling. He arrived at school with a coffee stain on his pants and a scowl on his face. He didn't spot any of the pack hanging around outside so made his way in with his backpack slung over his shoulder sloppily. People seemed to be avoiding him as he walked through the halls, probably because he looked like a mad man - hair a mess, sleep marks probably still pressed into his face, coffee stain in that awkward position so he looked like he'd not made it to the bathroom in time. Good, he was glad they were staying out of his way.

 

The last person he expected to see was waiting for him by his locker. Leaning against it, her strawberry blonde hair pulled perfectly up into a high ponytail, Lydia was giving him a stern look which made Stiles want to turn tail and run. But, like the brave man he was getting good at pretending to be, he approached. "Lydia, stunning as always," he greeted.

Lydia did not smile. "You look horrendous."

"Wow, thanks Lyds, that really boosts my self esteem you know," Stiles replied indignantly, hand on heart like he'd felt physical pain. She rolled her eyes.

"Did you wear those clothes yesterday?"

"No!" Stiles held her gaze until he caved. "Maybe."

Lydia sighed. "You two are ridiculous," she muttered.

"Huh?"

"Nothing," Lydia responded quickly. Stiles gave her a look which he hoped conveyed that she better tell him or else. "It's ridiculous. You two argue then you both just mope about, which makes the pack edgy and upset."

"Who?"

Lydia rolled her eyes. "You're smart Stiles, you can work it out." She pushed away from the locker. "Here's a comb, please at least fix your hair. Isaac is also waiting for you in Calc with coffee." And then she turned and sauntered away, the entire male population of the hallway following her with their eyes. Stiles checked his phone and realised he only had a few minutes before class began. He grabbed his books and ran to the other end of the school, only just making it in time before the teacher shut the door. 

 

Lydia had been right, Isaac was waiting for him in their usual seats with a fresh travel mug of coffee. Stiles grabbed it greedily and took a sip, sighing happily when he tasted the sweet goodness that was Isaac's apology beverage. Stiles smiled at the wolf beside him, who was watching his reaction cautiously. "Don't worry Isaac," Stiles shook his head. "You don't have to apologise, I'm not mad at you guys."

Isaac shrugged. "I know, but I just feel like I have to. Oh," he leaned down and grabbed a box out of his backpack. "Derek told me to give you this, and said if you don't eat it I'm to force it down your throat." Isaac handed him the Tupperware. "Please don't make me do that," he added. 

Stiles laughed and ruffled his hair. "Don't worry buddy, I'll save you the pain this time." He slid the box into his own backpack and took out his text book. "Now, what the hell are we doing? I completely zoned out last time."

 

 

Stiles survived the rest of the day with little incident. He hadn't given Lydia's words much thought, which was most definitely intentional. He didn't want to deal with that now. He'd come to the decision that whatever it was, it should be ignored until it simply went away. A classic Stiles move, one which had worked for him wonderfully for 17 years already. Anyway, his thoughts were on something much more important. He'd decided to completely ignore Derek's orders. What's new right? The stubborn werewolf didn't know what was good for them, on this matter at least. Stiles knew he needed to revisit the book store. So, instead of lacrosse practice one evening later that week, Stiles told Scott he had too much homework to catch up on and proceeded to leave school grounds as quickly as possible, before any nosy werewolves questioned him on his actions.

 

The shop looked exactly the same, but now Stiles was feeling apprehensive as he slowly walked inside. There were actually a couple of customers milling about, all lost in their own thoughts as they browsed the shelves. Stiles slipped past them and made his way to the back. The door was there this time, slightly ajar so that Stiles could just see the back of Ms Ripley pacing. She hadn't seemed to notice he was even there. Instead, she was fully focused on the person in front of her. Stiles shuffled so he could catch a glance at the other person, but as he did so, Ms Ripley's head shot up and she turned to stare right at him. It was unnerving even without knowing this woman was a pretty powerful witch who could just melt him into a puddle with just one spell. Ms Ripley strode towards the door and rearranged her features so she was giving Stiles a serene smile. She closed the door behind her and stood rather close to Stiles' face.

"I'm surprised to see you here Mr Stilinski," she said quietly. "And without your guards I notice."

Stiles had the sudden urge to lie. "They're outside," he told her quickly. "Didn't want to come in."

She didn't seem to believe him, but nodded anyway. "What can I do for you? Is the book not working out?"

Stiles glanced around them warily, pointedly lingering on the man standing just within hearing range. "It was- well, I need more _information_." 

Ms Ripley's piercing gaze made Stiles want to sink into the shadows. "Of course," she finally replied. "This way."

 

The lady was there, with the blonde hair down to her waist. She stared at Stiles as he followed Ms Ripley in. Her eyes were unblinking. Stiles was officially creeped out. He stopped and stared at the lady, not wanting to be the one to back down - he was stubborn like that. 

"Mr Stilinski?" Ms Ripley was looking between them like she'd had some sort of revelation. Her mouth turned up into a small smile. "Stiles, I'd like you to meet my daughter."


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

* * *

 

Stiles was sitting at the table in the small room with his head between his hands and a cup of herbal tea steaming in front of him, untouched. Ms Ripley was opposite him, her daughter to the left of her. Her daughter, who Stiles now realised he recognised from his dad's police files. He'd been searching through them on the kitchen table eight years ago, trying to find the file on the Hale fire, as an inquisitive ten year old would do. He'd come across the one with Georgina Ripley's photo clipped to the front, but the large 'closed' stamp across it had made young Stiles simply toss it aside. He had not thought about the young blonde woman in the photo again. And now he was facing her, able to take in her upturned nose and wide green eyes. She had the same thin lips and oversized forehead as her mother, but that was all Stiles could see they shared.

"Your daughter," Stiles repeated, still trying to wrap his head around it. "Your dead daughter whom only you and I can see."

Ms Ripley sighed. "Others can see her too, but they have to possess the Sight."

"The Sight?" Stiles asked, now starting to sound rather incredulous. Instead of answering, Ms Ripley got up and strode over to the shelf on the opposite wall. She ran her hand over the spines until it grasped a small volume. Bringing it back over to the table, she flicked through to the page she wanted then placed it in front of Stiles.

"The Sight," she said, indicating to the diagrams on the page, "is a power documented since documentation began. It is most commonly found in witches, though some humans have been known to show signs of Sight."

Stiles shook his head. "Does it just mean I can see ghosts?"

"Sometimes, though most of the documents suggest it is more than just that. Some people have recorded they can predict the future, one witch back in the 18th Century claimed she could read minds. Though I'm not quite sure how much of that is accurate."

"Okay, slow down. So I have the special ability that can make me see dead people but I could also predict the future and read minds?!" Stiles ran a hand through his hair, pulling at it roughly. "I'm sorry to disappoint but I haven't been able to do either of those things, and I don't even know if I can see ghosts." Ms Ripley looked like she wanted to interrupt but Stiles kept going, disbelief growing. "I don't know that your daughter is here, I could just be going crazy. That thought has crossed my mind more than I'd like to admit honestly,and I'm starting to think it's a real possibility."

Ms Ripley was looking at him almost sadly. Georgina had a blank expression on her face. Perhaps Stiles had offended her, which would be kind of funny if she was a figment of his imagination.

"I'm just a human; a regular, boring, useless human." He stood up. "I'm sorry I wasted your time, I'll try and find the information we need somewhere else." He turned to go.

"Stiles." Ms Ripley said firmly. "Take this." She handed him the small book with the diagrams. "I have a contact up in Seattle that might be able to help you with the information your pack requires." She ducked into her office, presumably to get the number or address.

 

Meanwhile, Georgina was staring at the table, her hands folded tightly.

"I am real," she whispered. Her voice had a strange echoing quality that seemed to drift across the space between them. "What my mother is telling you is true."

"My mind could be telling me that," Stiles pointed out.

Georgina looked up at him and her eyes were misty. "If I could change this, I would." She paused, seeming to battle with herself. She then muttered, "but he has so much more to learn."

Stiles was sure that was not directed at him.

"You are destined, Mieczyslaw Stilinski-"

"Enough Georgina," commanded Ms Ripley as she re-entered the room. She gave her daughter a firm look before handing a folded piece of paper to Stiles. "He is expecting a visit from you. He should be able to help."

"Thanks," he said, rattled by Georgina's words. Ms Ripley nor her daughter said anything else as Stiles left.

 

Stiles drove home slowly. He had a feeling his return would not be pleasant. It was already 7, lacrosse should have ended hours ago. His only saving grace would be his dad just getting in from the station. When Stiles pulled into the drive, he saw his dad's cruiser already there. Breathing a sigh of relief, he jumped out and double checked he still had the paper in his pocket. Opening the front door, Stiles listened carefully for the sound of that voice he was dreading to hear. But, it was only his dad sitting in his favourite arm chair in front of the TV. He looked up at his son then glanced at his watch.

"You're home late," he said, not in an accusatory tone, merely pointing out a fact.

Stiles shrugged, "Scott needed help with some studying."

His dad nodded then turned back to the TV. "I didn't know what to make so I just took out some of Melissa's casserole from the freezer. You can warm that up right?"

Stiles' heart sunk at how easily his father accepted his lie, but he nodded with a forced smile and turned back to the kitchen to start on dinner. The Sheriff hadn't questioned where his lacrosse kit was, probably not even realising that Thursdays were a practice day. Stiles was thankful though that Derek was nowhere to be seen. He didn't want to deal with that right now, not after all that had happened at the book store.

 

When Stiles was done with dinner and was sat at his desk in his room, he started to think over all that had been said. When that started to hurt his brain, he reluctantly picked up the small book Ms Ripley had given him and opened it to the first page. That managed to hold his attention until his room had grown dark and the words began to get harder to read just by the light of his laptop. After that, he put it away and sat back in his chair. Derek still had not shown up. In fact, none of the pack had made an appearance, which Stiles found odd. Maybe they had finally given up on the babysitting idea, deeming him well again and losing interest. He had really thought Derek would be here waiting for him to scold him for breaking the Alpha's rules. But apparently not. Stiles would assume Derek didn't even know, except it's Derek and Derek always knows. So the only other conclusion the teenager could come up with with was the Alpha had given up. Perhaps it was a good thing, Stiles thought. Wasn't this what he had wanted all along? Freedom to do what he thought was best? Without the Alpha breathing down his neck, he could finally carry out his more adventurous plans guilt-free.

 

But, there was that tiny part of him, deep down where he never usually liked to look, that had hoped the Alpha would know - had hoped Derek would care enough to wait for him in his creepy style and remind him how dangerous his actions were. It was stupid, Stiles knew that, maybe even kind of Stockholm Syndrome-y. That was why it was hidden far away, and why Stiles rarely ever addressed that part of himself. But with everything about his identity now in question, it was understandable he was bringing that to the surface too.

 

Stiles didn't really know what to think anymore. He was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't simply the useless human of the pack. It felt like some cruel joke being played on him, giving him exactly what he had been wishing for. It seemed too easy, too convenient. But, according to the book Ms Ripley had given him, it was in his DNA. He had always had the Sight, he just hadn't unlocked it properly. It was passed down to him from one of his parents. The book had studies which indicated the maternal side was normally the carrier. Stiles could believe it. He had a hard time imagining his father as anything but a normal, human, cop. But that brought up even more questions, ones he wished he could ask his mother, more than he'd wished he could ask her anything else before. Stiles knew, he just knew, that Claudia Stilinski would have some answers for him - answers he could actually accept as truth, rather than doubting at every turn of a page.

 

 

Stiles gasped awake. His eyes flew around the room, his hand already outstretched, reaching for the baseball bat. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he frowned. Dropping the bat, Stiles sat up and ran a hand through his messy hair. His heart was racing and sweat was caked over his body, but he couldn't remember why. His dream had slipped away as soon as his eyes opened, but the adrenaline was still rushing around his body. He pushed the book away that he must have fallen asleep on and sighed. Stiles knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, so he crawled out of bed and stumbled over to the bathroom. He ran the shower absentmindedly, letting the water warm up before he could jump in. He stared into the mirror above the sink, taking in his appearance. The dark circles under his eyes were purple now, almost bruise-like. His mouth was down turned, like he had just been given some awful news. He wished he could remember what the dream had been. By this point though, he could guess it was some supernatural creature or another. Doing the amount of reading he did, it gave his brain some great ammunition for his sleeping moments. The best part was, unlike the nightmares most normal people would wake up from, his were so exceptionally real and he knew they could come true. He really could be torn apart by a rogue vampire or an overly inquisitive rival pack. Or gouls. God, that dream had been bad. Funnily enough, a week after that one, the pack and himself had actually had to deal with a nasty goul wreaking havoc on Beacon Hills. But hey, what else was new?

 

Stiles grabbed his school bag before he headed out the door. His homework was untouched, yet another excuse he was going to have to come up with at school that day. His Jeep didn't start on the first try. In fact, it took Stiles a good twenty minutes to get it going, and once it finally spluttered to life he realised he was going to miss first period. Groaning, Stiles forced his Jeep out of the drive and onto the road. By some miracle, there were no troubles on the way there and he pulled into the school car park only a few minutes after the bell had rung. If he was quick, he could probably slip into first period unnoticed. His plan was ruined though by the ominous black Camaro parked near the entrance. Stiles sat in the Jeep, not knowing if he should get out and face the music or chance the unreliable engine for a quick getaway. Resigned to the fact Stiles knew the Jeep probably wasn't going to start again, he sighed and got out.

 

He took his sweet time getting his backpack out and double checking he had all the right books in there for the day, even though Stiles knew already that he’d packed them. He could just feel Derek’s eyes on the back of his head, but he still locked the Jeep and checked the handle before turning round and making his way over to the alpha.

“My class has already started Derek, so you better make this quick,” Stiles stated as soon as he was close to the Camaro.

Derek had a blank expression on his face. It wasn’t the angry Stiles had been expecting - instead of the dark stormy eyes, it was just emotionless. “There was another attack last night. We’re going to be out looking all day.”

By we, Stiles knew Derek meant the pack. He shifted his backpack further up his shoulder. “Okay, I should come with you.”

“No.”

“Then what the hell is the point of you telling me this?” Stiles snapped.

“If I hadn’t told you, you’d come looking for everyone.”

“I can still help, I helped with that last one!”

Derek shook his head, the emotionless expression still in place. It was slightly unnerving. “Just stay in class Stiles.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes and took a step back. “You know what Derek, go fuck yourself.” He started to storm away, but stopped for a second to look back. “And next time you need any research doing, go knock on someone else’s window.” And with that, Stiles made his way into the school, mildly proud he didn’t trip on any stairs, keeping his exit as dramatic as he had aimed it to be.

 

Stiles heard the squealing tires from the corridor as he approached his locker, but he just rolled his eyes. Derek could do what he wanted, he couldn’t give a damn. Looking at his phone, Stiles saw he was already too late for first period, so he just grabbed his books for his next class and went to wait in the room. He was so angry at Derek, and how he’d brushed him aside yet again, that Stiles barrelled straight into someone. Books went flying, and the other person fell to the ground.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry!” Stiles exclaimed as he dropped to his knees to help the girl up. She smiled shyly at him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before taking his outstretched hand. They both stood and brushed themselves off before gathering up the strewn books. The girl was as tall as Stiles, with a long oval face and bright auburn hair that fell almost to her waist.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked once the books were collected.

The girl smiled again, “yeah, I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Her voice was soft, but seemed to echo around the empty corridor.

Stiles shook his head. “No it was my bad, I was too busy being mad at all my friends.”

“What did they do?” She asked.

“They’ve ditched me to skip school, so now I’m stuck dealing with Harris by myself,” Stiles answered, rolling his eyes.

The girl laughed, and it sent goosebumps up Stiles’ arms. He had no idea why, but she had an electric quality about her. “That really sucks, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “What can you do.” Stiles put the books back into his bag. “I’m sorry again.”

The girl nodded and started to walk away. “Oh,” she turned back, walking backwards a few steps. “My names Selena by the way.”

“Stiles.”

“It was nice to meet you Stiles,” she replied, waving and turning back to keep walking down the corridor. Stiles watched her go, wondering why he’d never noticed her before. Shaking it off, he kept going towards the chemistry lab. He reminded himself of his previous anger at the pack, and all thoughts of the girl left his mind.

 

 

The next day at school, the pack still wasn’t there. It had Stiles concerned, if only for his best friend’s well being, and maybe Isaac’s. But certainly not their stupid Alpha, who Sties definitely wasn’t missing one bit. So that evening, once he and his dad had sat down for dinner, Stiles couldn’t help but bring up the case.

“So dad,” Stiles started. “Have you got that neighbourhood watch set up yet?”

His dad looked worn out. He nodded slowly. “Hale came by the station earlier.”

So they were alive, Stiles thought bitterly. Nice of them to tell him. “Great, so when will people be coming over to start the first one?”

“We’re making Marvin’s house the meeting place, it’s more central to the affected area.”  
“Let me guess, that was Derek’s idea?” He hadn’t meant to say it, but Stiles couldn’t help the bitter words leaving his mouth. Derek clearly was doing it so he wouldn’t get involved.

The Sheriff raised an eyebrow. “Is there something you want to talk about?”

Stiles sighed and shook his head. “No dad, it’s fine. Derek’s just an asshole.” He stood up from the table and took his plate over to the sink, the food untouched.

The Sheriff coughed at his word choice.

“I’m going to get started on my homework.”

“You should finish your dinner,” his dad suggested.

Stiles nodded and took the plate with him, fully intending on throwing it away once his dad had gone to bed. He made his way upstairs slowly, thinking about what the pack must be doing at that moment. He realised he hadn’t got an answer on when the neighbourhood watch would be starting, but he guessed it wasn’t really important anymore, since he wasn’t allowed to join and people wouldn’t be coming over to their house to plan.

 

Stiles hadn’t realised he’d let his room get in such a state. Looking around for a place to put his plate of food, he realised all the surfaces were covered by books and half used scraps of paper. Notebooks were scattered around the floor of his desk and the carpet was barely visible elsewhere due to the fact his entire closet seemed to be strewn around the room. He opened the closet door and saw that it was in fact his entire closet on the carpet, bar a few formal shirts he’d only worn once and were probably way too small now. Stiles finally just placed the plate on top of one of the books on his side table then looked around again. He knew he should clean it up, and maybe it would take his mind off the pack, so he set to work.

 

It took an hour just to get the floor clear, and another to reorganise the books and paper so they made neat-ish piles beside his desk. As he lifted the plate of now cold food off the final books, he saw the top one was the small volume Ms Ripley had given him. Stiles didn’t want to look at it again, didn’t want to think about the chapter that warned of side effects of the Sight: the memory loss, the day terrors, and the eventual descent into madness. It didn’t happen to everyone, but a few individuals would get the symptoms. Their brains just couldn’t handle the power. It was usually the humans who had the Sight, as the witches were more equipped to cope with the force of it. Stiles still wasn’t sure he even believed the Sight existed though, let alone that he possessed it. He took the book over to his desk and sat down, opening it to the chapter he had left bookmarked. It was titled ‘Future Visions’. He read slowly, which was out of the ordinary for him, but he wanted to take in each word. The book had accounts from various witches who had experienced the visions, claiming they had predicted things ranging from minor accidents to natural disasters. One even claimed to have Seen the 2008 financial crash, but Stiles was pretty sure many economists had predicted that, and people had just ignored them.

 

The most convincing of all the cases was from a human, living in America in the time of the first settlers. She had come over with her parents, and was able to tell when the Native Americans would be planning an attack. She had kept a journal, and the book had extracts from it. She had been captured during one of the raids, and the Natives took her back to their village. She kept writing while with them. Stiles’ eyes were glued to the page, scanning through her neatly written account of what happened. Supposedly, the Natives spared her life because they found out about her talent. They already had myths surrounding the Sight, and it was her ability that saved the girl’s life. Stiles reached the end of the chapter and sat back in his chair. Many of the accounts had said they got their visions through dreams. He thought of all his nightmares he had, all the supernatural creatures who crept up on him in the night. Stiles suddenly grabbed his laptop and opened up the calendar. He looked through the months, and saw how he’d marked each attack down in colour coded events. He liked to keep track of them all incase the pack needed to find any kind of pattern in the attacks. Stiles scanned the calendar and realised he had been having nightmares before almost every attack. Nightmares that usually included the monster they would then be fighting. He remembered the ghoul dreams, and the very next day the discovery they made in the graveyard.

 

Stiles sat back. His hands were shaking. Had he seen the future in those nightmares? Had they been clues all along? He closed his eyes and took some calming breaths. He needed to think about this methodically. Okay, so he was most likely able to see the future. He possessed the Sight. He shook his head at the absurdity. But if he had the Sight, then why was Ms Ripley’s daughter the only dead person he’d seen? Stiles shivered. Maybe she wasn’t. Maybe he’d been seeing them everywhere, but he hadn’t realised they were ghosts. God, he thought to himself. How could I have been so stupid. Stiles pushed his chair back and spun around absentmindedly, his thoughts whirling, trying to think of times that might stick out as ghost sightings. Getting up, Stiles started to pace, wracking his brain for any time that could have been unusual. But he couldn’t think of any. Surely if he’d been unknowingly interacting with ghosts, he’d have freaked Scott out. If his ghost seeing powers had kicked in around the time of his nightmares, then there should have been many possible times for the situation to occur. Suddenly an image of the corridor girl, with her auburn hair falling away from her face as she looked up at him made Stiles jolt. Was that the reason he’d never seen her before?

 

Stiles launched himself back into his desk and pulled up google as fast as he could. Searching the Beacon Hills area, he tried to find any recent deaths of girls high school age. The book had stated that sometimes, the deceased didn’t realise they had died, and would try and continue their normal lives like nothing had happened. Stiles wondered if that was what had happened to Selena. After scouring the internet, he hadn’t managed to come up with any cases that matched Selena’s description. Sighing in defeat, Stiles got up once again and made his way over to the window. He looked out at the surrounding houses and out to the woods backing onto their yard. The whole area was dark, his dad having turned the kitchen light off before heading to bed. The neighbouring houses had their lights off too, and Stiles just realised it was probably the early hours of the morning already. He rested his head against the cool glass and closed his eyes. He knew he was stalling going to bed. He didn’t want another nightmare, especially if it now could mean he was seeing the future. As he stood there with his forehead against the window, Stiles felt himself slowly starting to grow drowsy. Knowing he’d regret it in the morning if he didn’t drag himself to bed now, he pulled away from the window and started towards his bed. Just as he started to move, he caught a glimpse of something at the tree line at the end of the backyard. Telling himself it was probably just a fox, Stiles shook it off and crawled into bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

 

 

“Nice of you to show up today,” Stiles called as he saw Scott and Allison standing by their lockers the next morning. The two had the decency to look sheepish, though neither leaped to apologise for leaving him out. “Thanks for letting me know you're alive, really good to sleep with that comfort you know?” Stiles added sarcastically as he reached them.

“Stiles we’re really sorry, but Derek-“

“Yeah I get it, Derek told you not to tell me. Whatever,” Stiles cut in, shaking his head as he opened his own locker and checked his timetable for the day. Double Chemistry that afternoon, fantastic.

“If it makes you feel any better, I made cupcakes with Lydia last night, if you want one?” Allison attempted, pulling out the delicious looking treats from her bag.

Stiles raised an eyebrow at her. “Lydia Martin baked something?” He asked incredulously.

Allison shrugged, “not exactly. I baked and she directed.”

Nodding at the more plausible explanation, Stiles decided the cakes looked too good to be rejected out of principle, so he reached for the biggest one and took a huge bite. Annoyingly, it was one of the best cupcakes he’d ever had.

Allison smiled at his obvious enjoyment, putting the rest away in her locker and linking arms with him. “Come on,” she said brightly. “We’ve got Biology first and I’ll let you copy my homework before class starts.”

Accepting her peace offering, Stiles begrudgingly let Allison drag him away to their class, only looking back at Scott when he called out that he’d see them at lunch

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, it’s a bit early but I was excited to upload! I’ve finally got a new job, so my uploading might take a bit longer, but I wanted to give you guys this one to keep you going.
> 
> I’m also nearing the end of this story writing wise, which is pretty cool. But, I have so many more ideas for these boys, I’m actually thinking about making a sequel in this ‘verse. Hard for you guys to give comment on that idea yet, but if anyone has any strong feelings about it, let me know :)


	7. Chapter 7

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles was worried. Things felt like they had slipped right back to what they had been before. It had been days now without any of the pack coming around after school to check if he was okay, not to mention Derek, who he hadn’t heard from and was in fact actively getting the pack to avoid Stiles as much as possible. It made Stiles want to scream at them across the lunch table, but he knew it wasn’t their fault their Alpha was giving them orders.

 

He had fallen back into his old routine, missing meals in favour of pouring over books, despite telling Derek to find someone else to research for them, and staying up half the night to avoid the nightmares that plagued his sleeping mind. He could feel the exhaustion in school, finding himself wanting to nap in classes but having to stop his head from resting on the desks and pumping his body full of caffeine to keep himself alert during lacrosse practice. Or at least he was trying to, but practice that evening had been brutal. He’d lost concentration so many times, and been thrown to the ground because of it, coach had just pulled him out and made him sit on the bench for the rest of it. By the end Stiles just trudged off the field before any of his friends could catch up, avoiding the locker rooms in favour of his Jeep, throwing his lacrosse gear into the back and starting up the engine on the second try. He had a pounding headache, and just wanted to get home so he could take more of his Adderall and maybe distract himself with a movie or something.

 

Stiles showered and changed before picking the movie he wanted to watch. He didn’t set it up in the sitting room, wanting to avoid his father when the Sheriff came home incase he questioned why dinner wasn’t made. So he collapsed onto his bed instead, laptop in hand and ready to forget the pack existed for one night, all of their supernatural drama along with it. It was a campy John Carpenter movie that he loved to watch on days like this, and it kept his mind distracted enough but not too engaged. After it got done, he had just loaded up the second of the director’s works when he heard the all too familiar sound of tapping on his window. Groaning silently, Stiles paused the movie and scrambled out of bed, preparing himself for the shouting match he was about to engage in with Derek.

 

But it wasn’t Derek. The curly hair and guilty expression belonged to Isaac who was perched on the roof below. Stiles opened the window and the boy jumped through gracefully.

“What are you doing here?” Stiles asked.

“I didn’t really want to be in the loft.” Isaac rubbed the back of his neck. “I wondered if I could stay here tonight?”

Stiles sighed but nodded. “Sure. Wanna watch a movie?”

Isaac looked relieved, and he nodded enthusiastically, bounding over to the bed and moving the laptop out of his way so he could sit down. Stiles wanted to laugh, but he just followed the wolf and sat down beside him. Stiles hit play, and the two settled down to watch in comfortable silence. Isaac got tired pretty quickly, and Stiles saw his eyes drooping before the movie had even ended, but the boy stuck with it until the end credits rolled. Normally, Stiles would want to put the next one in and keep himself awake as much as possible, but the warm body next to him and the sleepy vibes Isaac was giving off actually had him yawning too. So he closed the laptop, pushed one of his spare pillows over for Isaac, then shuffled down in the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. The wolf was hesitant at first, but seeing Stiles not protesting his presence in the bed, Isaac shuffled down too and curled up next to him happily. If you had told Stiles a few years ago he would be sharing a bed with another guy like this, he would have thought it would at least be awkward, and definitely weird, but it wasn’t. The pack mentality really had rubbed off on him, and the feeling of Isaac drifting to sleep beside him was more comforting than anything else. So Stiles embraced it, letting his mind and body relax and soak in the calming energy from Isaac and feeling sleep overcome him.

 

It was his first night in days without nightmares. One had danced around the edge of his dreamless sleep, but nothing had him jumping awake in a cold sweat. Stiles woke up feeling almost rested, and he stretched lazily. Isaac had been woken by the alarm, and he was stumbling out of the bed bleary eyed. He mumbled something about making coffee and Stiles nodded gratefully. When Isaac headed downstairs, he got out of bed slowly and made his way to the bathroom to shower. He was aching, his muscles sore from practice yesterday and no doubt covered in bruises from the tackles he had received. The warm water helped though, and he felt much fresher when he walked back into his bedroom. Isaac was back, and he had put a mug of coffee down on the bedside table for Stiles. He grabbed it greedily, happy to have the hot liquid not scald his tongue like it always did when he made it. He smiled appreciatively at Isaac who grinned back, knowing exactly why Stiles was so happy.

“You can use the shower if you want,” Stiles suggested.

“I didn’t bring a change of clothes,” Isaac shrugged.

“You can borrow some of mine.” Stiles eyed up the boy and then rooted around in his drawers, pulling out some clothes he thought might fit. He even pulled out a pack of brand new boxers, chucking them over to Isaac who caught them easily. Stiles grinned. “They were a present,” he explained. “Not my style, so I never opened them.”

Isaac eyed up the brightly patterned garments and grimaced, but thanked Stiles all the same and headed to the bathroom.

 

 

The pack gave them a funny look when Stiles and Isaac walked into school together that morning, but no one said anything. Stiles wondered if the looks had to do with what Isaac had left behind at the loft. Clearly something had happened that made him want to avoid it, and if Derek was in a mood Stiles couldn’t really blame him. He didn’t know why Erica and Boyd would have such a problem with it though. They pulled Isaac away for their first class together, and Lydia joined Stiles on their way to Lit. She rolled her eyes at the coffee flask Stiles was drinking from.

“What?” He asked.

Lydia shook her head. “Do you have to antagonise him more?”

“Do you have to be so cryptic?” Stiles shot back at the girl.

She flicked her hair over her shoulder. “Don’t be so dense Stiles. You know Derek won’t be happy when he smells you all over Isaac.”

Stiles bristled. “Well, I couldn’t give a damn what Derek thinks. If he doesn’t want his pack hanging out with me then he shouldn’t be driving them away,” he said stubbornly.

“I don’t disagree with you Stiles, you’re just not thinking deep enough into it.”

Stiles sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you too Lyds.”

She shrugged. “That’s fine.” She took her seat. “I’ve said my bit anyway. I’m not getting involved in this.”

Stiles was glad she was going to drop it. He really didn’t want to fight with her about Derek, especially since it sounded like even she was on the Alpha’s side.

 

 

Without the sandwich Isaac would always produce for him at lunchtime, Stiles was forced to get the cafeteria food. It was mildly edible this time, so he picked at it with a bit more enthusiasm than he normally would. The pack seemed surprised that he was eating it, Jackson obviously about to make a comment until Lydia prodded him and he kept his mouth shut.

Stiles rolled his eyes at them. “I know you have all been banned from telling me anything, but can anyone give me an update on our most recent threat?” Stiles posed the question to the table. They all looked away from him guiltily, none of them willing to be the one to answer. “Okay fine,” Stiles put down his fork. “How about the neighbourhood watch? How’s that going? And you can’t not answer that one, because my dad is on the other side of it so I could just get all the information from him.” They all seemed to digest that and then relax slightly, obviously realising he was right and they could probably get away with giving him some answers.

“We’re not actually on the watch, but Derek is. He gives us their schedules, and we trail them, see if they find anything out of the ordinary.” Scott was the first to speak up.

“Well, I’m glad my dad didn’t actually allow a bunch of teenagers on the watch I suppose,” Stiles replied. “Have you guys found any new leads?”

After a few seconds of deliberating, Scott shook his head. “Nothing,” he sighed. “We’ve just sort of been out there waiting for something to happen.”

Stiles knew they needed his help, so he sighed. “You can tell Derek I can get answers for him, but I have to go to Seattle to get them, and my Jeep is in no way capable of making a trip like that.” The pack all shifted uncomfortably. They knew Derek’s reaction was not going to be good, but Stiles didn’t particularly care. He was being generous even telling Derek this, offering his help yet again despite it never being appreciated. He would tell the Alpha himself if he would let him, but Stiles knew Derek was avoiding him at all costs, so the easiest way to get the message to him was through his pack. If they were upset about that, they could take it up with their Alpha.

 

 

He had half expected it to be Derek at his window that night, but once again Stiles was met with that mop of curly hair and blue eyes. Isaac looked rattled, so Stiles let him in quickly.

“Are you okay?” he asked the boy who had sat down on the bed.

Isaac shrugged in that way Stiles knew meant he was upset but trying to be strong. Sometimes they forgot that Isaac was still dealing with a lot, and things could easily trigger him. This had been a boy abused by his own father for years after all. Stiles knew that any kind of raised voice from an adult could send Isaac back to those moments in his childhood. Derek must have been shouting in the loft, and Stiles knew he was the cause of it. So he walked over to Isaac and sat down next to him. He bumped his shoulder gently and the wolf attempted a smile.

“I’m basically done with my homework, do you wanna watch something?” Stiles asked and Isaac nodded. Smiling, Stiles stood again and grabbed his laptop, shutting his Calc books as he did and turning off his desk lamp. The room was then only lit by his bedside lamp, casting a soft yellow glow over the bed and surrounding area. Stiles nudged Isaac over and then both sat with their backs against the headboard. He let Isaac pick their movie this time. The action thriller was one he’d seen before, but he didn’t mention that. It seemed to lift Isaac’s mood, which was helped even more when Stiles went downstairs and came back with some snacks for them. He even ate a handful of the chips, making Isaac smile. There was obviously some part of the wolf instinct still in there telling them to make sure Stiles was eating well.

 

Stiles drove them into school again the next morning after another night of restful sleep. As soon as they got there though, Isaac tensed and Stiles looked around to see what was wrong. The black Camaro was in Stiles’ favourite place, so Stiles had to pull the Jeep into a different parking spot. He sighed. This was not going to be fun. Grabbing his bag and coffee, Stiles jumped out of the car. Closely followed by Isaac, they made their way over to where Derek was stood. He had sunglasses on, so Stiles couldn’t see where the Alpha was looking or how angry his eyes were. Isaac approached his Alpha with his head down in submission. Even Stiles could see Derek’s nose twitch, obviously taking in his scent on the beta. But Derek didn’t growl at the boy like Stiles half expected, he just turned to Stiles instead.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, voice monotone, giving little away.

Stiles glared at him then turned to Isaac. “I’ll see you inside, save me a seat?”

Isaac looked at his Alpha one more time before nodded mutely at Stiles and making his way into the school.

“You don’t have to be so mean to him,” Stiles shot at Derek. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Derek just huffed and changed the subject.“What’s in Seattle?”

“You’re unbelievable, you know that right?” When Derek didn’t react, Stiles sighed. “I was given a contact there that has answers on what our mystical creature is. He’s an expert.”

“Let me guess,” Derek pulled his sunglasses off and crossed his arms. “You got this contact from that witch.”

Stiles crossed his arms too. “So what? I’m clearly not part of your pack Derek, so you can’t order me around.”

“You are pack,” Derek replied, sounding stubborn.

Stiles shook his head. “No, I’m not Derek. If I was pack you wouldn’t have ignored me for a week and only acknowledged my existence when you, once again, need me for information.” Stiles uncrossed his arms and clutched his bag straps on his shoulders instead. “I thought I was pack, after the hospital, but I’m not. Isaac is the only one who’s come to see me for days, and you ordering them all to not tell me what’s going on shows I’m not involved.”

Derek just seemed to cross his arms tighter.

“If you want the information from Seattle, fine, I’ll help you get it because I don’t want my friends to die and I want this creature gone. But I need a way of getting there and after this Derek, I’m done. I’m an all or nothing kinda guy, and I can’t live this half in, half out life anymore.” Stiles stepped back, walked around the Camaro and started to head towards the building. “Let me know what you decide,” he called back to the silent werewolf.

 

Giving Derek an ultimatum like that had put Stiles in a rather good mood. He had taken control, and he liked it. He had managed to cheer Isaac up by the end of their class, and was chipper all the way to last period, where he sat beside Scott and happily engaged in some hangman on their otherwise unmarked Econ book.

“Why are you in such a good mood?” Scott asked when they were finally dismissed.

Stiles shrugged and packed up his things, shoving it all into his backpack to sort out at a later date. “It’s the weekend, I feel good.”

Scott just nodded at his explanation.

“So, wanna hang out this evening? I’m thinking we have a gaming marathon, we haven’t done that in ages,” Stiles suggested, realising he wanted to embrace his mood.

Scott was surprised but agreed happily. He said he had to stop at his house first, but that he’d be over before dinner so they could have as long as possible to play.

“It’s cool if I invite Isaac right?” Stiles thought suddenly, realising Scott might just want their one on one bro time. Scott gave him a look but said it was cool with him, and Stiles grinned at his friend. It would be like old times, a whole evening without any supernatural and it was exactly what he needed. Just as Stiles was about to open his locker, the girl with the long red hair waved at him as she passed by.

“Hey Stiles,” she said quietly but her voice carried over to him. Stiles waved back, but she was gone before he could respond, lost in the crowd of people wanting to get out of the building and start their weekends.

“Who was that?” Scott asked.

“You saw her?”

Scott gave him a weird look and nodded. “Well, yeah,” he said unsurely. “She was kind of hard to miss.”

Stiles was so grateful his friend had seen her, that she was actually real, that he grinned and threw his locker door open so enthusiastically that it swung back and hit him in the face. Scott burst out laughing, and Stiles rubbed his forehead while he glared at his friend.

“What’s he laughing at?” Isaac had approached, and was eyeing Scott up suspiciously.

“My locker attacked me!” Stiles exclaimed, glaring at said locker accusingly.

Isaac smirked. “Want me to punch it for you?” He asked.

Stiles sighed and patted his friend’s arm. “No, I don’t think that’ll do anyone any good in the long run.” He opened it again, this time slowly and deliberately, and grabbed the books he’d need this weekend and closed it again just as carefully. “Right, let’s get going.” He turned to Isaac again. “You’re joining us for a gaming marathon, and you don’t have a say in it,” he told him matter of factly. Isaac didn’t seem upset by that, in fact he seemed quite pleased he’d been invited, and he happily followed them out to the parking lot and jumped into the Jeep beside Stiles without hesitation.

 

Their gaming evening somehow went off without a hitch. There were no supernatural interruptions, Stiles won almost every game, and Derek stayed well and truly out of his mind. Scott and Isaac had been extremely frustrated that the human kept beating them, but Stiles had spent so many hours on the games that no amount of supernatural abilities could best him. When Scott was finally killed for the eighth time, they paused the game and all sat back. Scott checked his phone and sighed. “I think I gotta head out, I promised mum I’d be home before she got back from her shift.”

Stiles pouted, making Scott laugh but he still stood up.

“I can’t believe you’re going to leave now Scotty, you were almost winning!”

Scott rolled his eyes. “No I wasn’t.” He picked up his hoodie and zipped it up. “You’ll see me tomorrow at the pack meeting anyway,” he added.

Stiles tensed and his friend noticed, so he said, “I won’t be coming tomorrow.” Before any questions could be asked, Stiles added, “you can come round after, I’ll even let you bring Allison.”

That seemed to satisfy Scott, and he nodded happily as he made his way to the front door. He seemed to hover though, looking towards Isaac as if the other boy would be following him out. Isaac was still sat on the floor by Stiles’ legs, back against the couch.

“You alright Scotty?” Stiles asked.

“Yeah, I-“ Scott shook himself. “Nothing, I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” and then he left the house. Stiles shrugged at his friend’s behaviour and looked down at Isaac. He didn’t need to ask if the boy was staying again that night. Even if Isaac had a pack meeting in the morning, it seemed like he would be staying over and heading back the next day. Stiles desperately wanted to ask him what was keeping him away from Derek’s loft and his own bedroom there, but he didn’t want to upset him. He also was trying this new thing out where he didn’t get involved in pack business anymore. “You hungry?” Stiles asked the wolf beside him, who nodded and went to get up. Stiles waved him down. “I’ll put some pizzas in the oven,” he told him while standing up himself. He stretched long and hard, his joints popping loudly.

“Gross,” Isaac said plainly and Stiles grinned at him before heading out to the kitchen to find the frozen pizzas.

 

 

Stiles had started to take his restful sleep for granted. It had only been a few nights with Isaac there, but he’d already gotten used to the other boy’s presence and the way his warmth beside him in the bed was able to keep the nightmares at bay. But that night, once they’d filled themselves with pizza and tired themselves out on video games, Stiles had crawled into bed and fallen asleep instantly, only to be woken a couple of hours later by his own scream. Isaac had leapt up from the bed, eyes flashing and face already half shifted, his gaze scanning the room for the threat. Stiles’ heart was pounding and he too was looking around as if the monster from his dream had somehow entered the world of the living. Once Isaac realised it had been Stiles’ nightmare that caused the scream, not an immediate threat in the room, he shifted his features back to human and returned to the bed, sitting down quickly and placing a calming hand on the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing. The creature was so real, its features so sharp and gaunt, hair wild and somehow it was still enticing. She called to him and he couldn’t help but get closer. He shook himself.

“Stiles,” Isaac whined, voice soft and searching, obviously distressed.

“I’m okay,” Stiles mumbled. His breathing was finally calming down, heartbeat hammering still but slowly going back to normal. He attempted to give Isaac a reassuring smile, but it came out more like a grimace. He knew the wolf didn’t buy it. He stood up, rubbing his face aggressively, wanting the feelings of the nightmare to ebb away. “I’m going to get some water, you should go back to sleep,” Stiles suggested to Isaac. The wolf did crawl back under the covers, but his eyes were trained on Stiles as he left the room, still very much alert and awake.

 

Stiles hoped his noise hadn’t woken his dad as he checked the clock in the kitchen. He didn’t have work the next day for once, and Stiles didn’t want to be the reason his dad missed out on a well deserved lie in. Stiles sighed and filled his glass up again from the tap. He didn’t want to keep Isaac up, and he also knew he wouldn’t be sleeping anymore, so he went to the living room and curled up in a corner of the couch. He would have put the TV on, but with Isaac’s wolf hearing he knew it would keep him up, so instead he pulled out his phone and saw he had a message from Derek.

 

Come to pack meeting, tomorrow 9am. -D

 

Stiles rolled his eyes at the text. It was like he could hear Derek’s voice as he read it. He could even see the face the wolf would be pulling as he said it. He knew Derek wouldn’t be awake, but he replied anyway.

 

Still not one of your betas -S

 

Unsurprisingly, he didn’t get a reply while he stared at his phone. So Stiles locked it and chucked it beside him, resting his head back against the wall and sighing quietly. He had never met anyone who could make him so frustrated, and yet he would always reply if Derek had messaged, or jump to his aid whenever he needed. It was as if he couldn’t help himself, something about the wolf kept drawing him in.

 

Isaac shuffled into the room twenty minutes later, eyes bleary and movements slow. He was holding his pillow still and he threw it onto the couch beside Stiles and laid down so his feet were one end and his head was resting on Stiles’ lap. Stiles asked why he’d come down, and Isaac just mumbled he couldn’t sleep, but he soon drifted off once settled on the couch with Stiles’ fingers running through his hair. Stiles wasn’t sure if the boy meant he couldn’t sleep because Stiles had disturbed him, or because Stiles wasn’t there in the room with him. Either way, he was glad Isaac was able to get some more rest before they’d have to be up for the pack meeting. He’d decided he would go, just to see what Derek wanted. It was probably about Seattle, most likely to shut it down completely and ban him from going. Derek loved saying no to his ideas, Stiles knew that by now, but he was going to approach it this time with that knowledge in the forefront of his mind and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t get that horrible sinking feeling as soon as Derek shot him down.

 

 

He and Isaac were a bit of a sight when they finally arrived at Derek’s the next morning. They both looked worn out, their hair messy and their clothes were crumpled. Or Stiles’ clothes, since Isaac still hadn’t brought any with him when he had one of their impromptu sleepovers. Stiles made a note to tell the boy to do that in future if this was going to be a thing, since he was in the only pair of jeans Stiles owned that were long enough for him, and they needed a wash by now. The rest of the pack were already there, all lounging in the living room area of the loft. Scott beamed at him when he saw Stiles had actually come, but the others didn’t look as pleased to see them. Derek was no where in sight, so Stiles guessed the Alpha was busy doing something upstairs, too cool to hang out with his pack unless it had a purpose he guessed.

“What’s up guys?” Stiles greeted them, choosing to ignore their weird expressions. There wasn’t any more space on the furniture, because Derek clearly believed in weird minimalist interior decorating and only had enough seating for five people, so Stiles and Isaac sat on the floor with Scott and Allison opposite the couch. Boyd, Erica, Lydia and Jackson had all managed to claim the seats, leaving one space free for Derek which even Stiles knew not to take. Erica was glaring at them, and Stiles raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

“Isaac?”

Said boy jumped, looking over at Allison who had been asking him a question which he hadn’t heard. He smiled apologetically, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, tired,” he explained. “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” Erica muttered under her breath, but Stiles was able to catch it.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snapped, fed up with their attitudes. His heart thudded. Did they know about his nightmares? Was that why they were acting weird with him?

“Enough!” Derek had come down the stairs, and he cut Erica off from whatever she was about to say. His face was stormy, eyes dark. Clearly he was in one of his usual great mood. He stared straight at Stiles for a good few seconds, expression unreadable, before surveying the rest of the pack. “I need to talk to Stiles first, then we can discuss routes for this week.” He looked back at Stiles, and only the slightest of head jerks in the direction of the stairs gave him his cue to follow.

 

They were silent for at least five minutes. Stiles refused to be the one to break it, considering it was Derek who had invited him over to discuss something. Finally Derek seemed to realise Stiles was not going to give in, so he huffed in frustration. “Isaac does have his own clothes,” he said, his voice almost grumpy. It made Stiles falter. He had been expecting Derek to jump right into the Seattle thing, not make some comment about Isaac sleeping at his instead of at the loft.

Stiles recovered quickly, and raised his eyebrows at the wolf opposite him. “I’ll make sure to remind him of that,” he snipped. “Did you make me come all this way just so you could make a dig about Isaac?”

Derek bristled, folding his arms in that familiar way. “We can go to Seattle. If we fly, we won’t have to be there longer than a weekend.”

Stiles was once again shocked by where this conversation was going. “I’m sorry,” he blinked, “we?”  
Derek gave him a look like he was being stupid. “Yes, we. You said you need a way there, and I’m not about to let you take my car, or go there alone.”

“Okay, firstly you should trust me with your car, I’m a great driver,” Stiles pointed out. “Secondly, I can’t afford to go flying off to Seattle for a weekend.”

Derek chose to ignore his first comment. “I have air miles. You don’t have to get the flights.”

Stiles sat back in the office chair and tried to come up with another excuse for this idea. He didn’t know why he was fighting it, this was exactly what he wanted. But the thought of a trip away with just Derek was making him panic and giving him goosebumps at the same time, and he had no idea why.

“This is what you wanted.” Derek sounded, just for a second, genuinely confused as to why Stiles was now fighting him on this.

“You’re right,” Stiles nodded. “You pick the dates, and I’ll be there.”

Derek seemed satisfied with his answer, so he stood straight and started to head to the door of the room.

“Hey Derek?” Stiles called. The Alpha turned, so he continued. “Whatever it is that you did to upset Isaac, you should just apologise. I know he needs to hear it.” Again, that unreadable expression fell over Derek’s face, and he simply turned again and left the room without acknowledging what Stiles had said. He hoped though that the Alpha had heard him, and would try and make things right with Isaac. The boy needed a home, and no matter how much Stiles had already begun to rely on his calming presence at night, he knew Isaac would be happier with the loft being a safe space again.

 

At the end of the pack meeting, once they’d gone through all the usual stuff, Derek dismissed them all but asked for a word with Isaac. Stiles smiled secretly, glad Derek had taken his advice for once. He, Scott and Allison headed out to give them more privacy, letting the Alpha and beta sort out their issues together. Stiles had patted Isaac on the back as they left, the boy catching his forearm and squeezing it gently as his own goodbye without needing to look away from Derek. It was so second nature, so comforting and normal that it made a warmth fill Stiles instantly, and he was grinning as they left the loft and headed back to his house. He ignored the silent conversation Scott and Allison thought they were having discreetly behind him, just happy to have things finally looking up with his friends back by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back :) I’m still trying to keep to the schedule I’ve set for this story best I can for you guys! I haven’t managed to do any writing this week because of work - the evening used to be my writing time but I’m on the 3-11pm shift so when I get home I just crash :(  
> Once I get used to my new schedule though I’ll be back at it and get this story finished so you guys can enjoy it. As always, let me know what you think and love/kudos is always appreciated!


	8. Chapter 8

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles stood in the middle of a clearing. Trees lined the edges, towering over him, their branches creating a canopy, blocking the sunlight from coming in. The grass still had that morning dew, soft and springy under his feet. But there was no sound as he walked, all noise strangely absent from the clearing. Stiles stopped and looked around again. He had a bad feeling about the place, and he somehow knew that beyond the trees there was safety. He started walking again, but every step he took towards the tree line, the further away it got. Frustrated, Stiles started to run, but the clearing just kept stretching out and out, the trees remaining the same distance away. What was happening? He paused. This must be a dream. Logically those trees couldn’t be moving away from him, so this must be a dream. He closed his eyes and willed himself to wake up, but nothing changed. So he tried again, squeezing them tight and chanting ‘wake up’ to himself silently.

“It won’t work,” a voice drifted over to him, as if carried on the wind.

His eyes flew open, and he looked around in a panic. But no one was there.

“You will wake when I permit you to,” the voice spoke again. He couldn’t tell what direction it was coming from. It seemed to be coming from everywhere, all at once, reverberating around the clearing.

“Who are you?” Stiles asked.

The voice laughed, or at least made a sound similar to laughing. “You will know soon, Mieczyslaw.”

Stiles froze. “How do you know my name?” He accused. No one knew that, not even Scott.

Another laugh. “I know everything about you Mieczyslaw. You are going to be my ultimate weapon.”

Stiles looked around again, his thoughts spinning, running through endless explanations for this nightmare. “A weapon?” He asked. He was stalling for time, he couldn’t care less what this voice had to say, he just needed to work out a way to wake up.

“You are stronger than you know,” the voice replied. It was distinctly female, Stiles realised distractedly.

“A weapon against what?” He chose to ignore her cryptic deflection. He was finally getting an idea, and he just needed her distracted for a few more minutes. It was a stupid plan, but hey, when were his plans ever completely foolproof?

“I have a place for you in my plan. By the time we are face to face, you will chose me over your precious pack Mieczyslaw. They will mean nothing to you.”

Stiles wasn’t sure how he knew, but as the woman was talking, he knew that if he reached behind him, he would feel his knife in place in its small holster strapped to his belt. He had wanted it, had known he would need it for his plan, and suddenly it was there. He didn’t have time to think about how that was possible, he just grasped the handle of the blade and slipped it out. The voice paused, clearly aware of his actions even if he couldn’t see her.

“What are you going to do with that?” The voice was mocking, but Stiles had heard a hint of surprise. “That pitiful blade will have little affect on me here.”

Stiles smiled grimly, bracing himself. “Oh no,” he said, shaking his head. “This isn’t meant for you.” And then, before she could stop him, he plunged the knife straight into his gut. There was an anguished cry, the wind suddenly howled between the trees and into the clearing, and then he could feel the blood dripping through his fingers. For a brief second, Stiles thought his plan hadn’t worked, that he’d stabbed himself and would be left to die in that forest, and then he was jumping awake, sitting bolt upright in bed with his heart pounding and his chest heaving.

 

Stiles scrabbled at his stomach, pulling his shirt over his head hastily and feeling for the stab wound he had just inflicted. But his skin was smooth, no sign of injury or blood. Stiles heaved out a sigh in relief, falling back against his pillows and trying to slow his racing heart. He was glad, in that moment, that Isaac had not turned up at his window that night. The wolf had clearly made up with Derek, and had spent the last couple of days back in his loft, in his own bed. Stiles had missed the comfort of the warm body beside him, the protection it seemed to provide from his nightmares, but he hadn’t had anything nearly as bad as that one. It had felt so real. He wasn’t quite sure it had been simply a nightmare, it felt like something more. He had been expecting to wake up caked in blood from his self-inflicted wound. Stiles was genuinely shocked there wasn’t a gory scene waiting for him when he opened his eyes.

 

He glanced at his phone, discarded on the nightstand, and saw it was only 4am. Stiles groaned. Yet another night with little to no sleep and he had school later today. He couldn’t wait for Spring Break, at least then he’d be able to hit his sleep quota in a series of naps throughout the day, the most effective way of avoiding nightmares he’d found. The thing was, Stiles liked to pretend, even to himself, that the nightmares were more of an inconvenience, annoying in the way they kept him from sleep, but secretly he was scared. Stiles never admitted it, but his night terrors were just that - terrors that had his heart jumping and his skin crawling. The adrenaline always running through his system had him on edge all the time, and his fight or flight reflex was his regular state of mind, and it was all terrifying. He may have spent the last couple of years with the knowledge of werewolves and the supernatural underworld around them, but he had also seen the darkness that accompanied it. He had lived it. And now his mind wasn’t even safe. It was distressing to say the least. Stiles flicked his bedside lamp on, dispelling the shadows in the room and easing his paranoia slightly. It wasn’t enough though. The voice was still echoing around his head, and every time he closed his eyes he was getting flashes of the gruesome crime scene they had stumbled across in the woods all those weeks ago. Was his mind trying to make connections for him, but he was too sleep deprived to work it out? He wasn’t sure, all he knew was that he didn’t want to be alone right now. So Stiles picked up his phone with shaky hands and dialled Isaac’s number.

 

“Stiles?” The voice that answered was deeper, more grumpy than Isaac.

“I- sorry, I thought I called Isaac,” Stiles stammered out, ready to hang up on Derek, but the wolf cut in before he could.

“Isaac left his phone out here,” he explained. “What’s wrong?”

Stiles debated just telling Derek everything was fine, but he knew he wouldn’t believe him. “I’m just-“ he ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t feel safe right now.” He hadn’t meant to make it sound so bad, so life threatening, and suddenly Stiles could hear Derek moving around on the other end of the phone.

“Where are you?” Derek asked quickly.

Again, Stiles wanted to lie, but he just muttered, “at home.” He didn’t want to panic Derek, but he also knew he couldn’t be alone right now. If Isaac was sleeping, at least he could have someone there.

“I’ll be there in five minutes. Keep the window locked until I'm there,” Derek barked out the order then hung up. Stiles looked over at his window and saw it was propped open an inch by a book he’d placed there earlier that evening. Climbing out of bed slowly, he carefully pulled the book away and locked the window, making a point not to look out at the dark back yard and trees beyond. He scurried back to his bed and sat down again, waiting for the distinct knock meaning Derek had arrived.

 

The wolf made it to his in four minutes, a new record. Stiles unlocked the window for Derek and he jumped in, eyes already scanning the room and fangs still out. Derek was then suddenly up in his space, sniffing deeply and a low growl rumbling from his chest. Stiles’ breath caught in his throat for a second, his feet frozen in place in the middle of his room. The wolf’s face was almost in his neck, the sniffing still going. Eventually Stiles managed to gain control of his body again and step back.

“Woah, personal space Derek,” he muttered, holding up his hands to stop the wolf from coming closer again.

“You stink like fear,” Derek stated, growl finally dying down in his throat and fangs receding into his gums. He seemed to have deemed the place safe then, so Stiles sat back down on his bed.

“Thanks,” he replied bitterly, rolling his eyes.

Derek did not sit down on the bed beside him, but he did pull the desk chair out and perched on it slowly. “Was there someone here?” He asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees, eyes staring intently at Stiles.

“No,” Stiles shook his head. His adrenaline had finally disappeared, and he was starting to realise he was just over reacting. It was a nightmare, and he’d panicked Derek for no reason. Even though he didn’t want to admit to the Alpha that he had been having them, he knew he had to explain why he had been so freaked out. “It wasn’t as big of a deal as I made it sound, I just had a nightmare you know?” Stiles shook his head again. “I was being stupid, you don’t have to stay-“

Derek suddenly stood up, and Stiles’ heart thudded again. The wolf sniffed the air, and then turned around to look at the room. When Stiles opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, Derek held up a hand. “I smell blood.” And then he strode out of the room silently. Stiles scrambled up from the bed, dashing after the wolf. He peaked out at the landing and saw Derek cautiously push open the bathroom door and freeze. Stiles wasn’t sure he wanted to, but he followed and stopped just behind Derek. The bathroom door had a smudge of blood on the handle, and as Stiles eyes followed a trail of blood drops, he saw what had made Derek stop. The sink was covered in the thick red substance, semi dry in some parts and still dripping in others. There were towels piled on the floor, all of which had that distinct crimson stain on them, and the mirror hanging above the sink was open, a clear red handprint wrapping around it from where the person had hurriedly, desperately, tried to access the medical supplies inside. Stiles’ first thought was his dad, and he made to rush to his bedroom when Derek’s hand caught his arm and spun him round to face him. His eyes were dark, intense and a hint of something Stiles had never seen before - fear maybe?

“My dad,” he whispered, but Derek shook his head.

“It’s not his,” he replied. Stiles gulped. He didn’t need to ask the question, he already knew. Derek confirmed it anyway though. “It’s yours.”

 

 

Stiles knew Derek was worried, maybe more worried than he’d ever seen him, but he kept scrubbing at the bathroom silently. He cleaned away the blood on the sink, and used bleach on the floor where it had sunk into the cracks between the tiles. He methodically collected up all the evidence: the towels, the scrubbing brushes, the rubber gloves, and carried them downstairs. He placed them all in a black bag, tied it up, and put it out in the black bin out back. Derek followed him the whole time, shadowing each move closer every minute, until they were finally back in the room and sat in the same positions as before. Stiles put his head in his hands and sighed deeply.

“I know what you’re going to ask,” he said as Derek opened his mouth. “But I don’t know.” Stiles looked up. “I don’t know how that happened, how any of this is happening. I’m not injured.” Stiles lifted his shirt up to show Derek his unmarked skin.

“I know,” Derek replied solemnly. “I would have smelled it on you.”

Stiles snorted. “But you didn’t get the gory crime scene one room over?”

Derek growled. “It was a little hard over all the smells clogging up this room,” he snapped.

Stiles would normally snap back, but he didn’t have the energy, or the brain power in that moment. For the second time that night his adrenaline was dissipating, and it left exhaustion in its wake.

Derek sighed. “Sorry,” he muttered finally. There was a silence while Stiles tried to process the fact Derek had actually just apologised to him. The Alpha shifted awkwardly. “What was your nightmare about?”

Stiles wasn’t sure what to say. If he told Derek everything, he’d think he was crazy. But how else could he explain what had happened? He looked up at the man, saw the deliberate stare he was giving him, and rubbed his face tiredly. “I don’t really know how it happens, but I have nightmares about the future.” Well, that was more direct than Stiles had intended, but it was out now.

Derek raised his eyebrows in surprise, perhaps at the honesty, but more likely at the sheer craziness of what Stiles had just admitted. Instead of making fun of him though, Derek schooled his expression and simply waited for Stiles to explain.

“I hadn’t realised it was happening until a few weeks ago. I still don’t fully believe it, but I kept dreaming of the things that were about to attack us a few days before it happened.”

“Is that why you weren’t sleeping properly? Before the hospital?” Derek asked with a frown.

Stiles snorted. “Man, they didn’t stop after my hospital stint.” He was sure the exhaustion was what was making him so candid, not the deep, penetrating blue eyes staring at him intensely, so intensely that it felt like Derek was looking directly into his mind. “But whatever, I just mean that I’ve been having nightmares recently, and I think it’s to do with the creature killing the kids.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, it’s just a vibe.” Stiles shrugged. “But, tonight, it was different. She… she had control of it, like she was making me see what she wanted.”

“She?” Derek leaned closer, his eyes now had a tinge of red around the edge of the blue. Stiles knew it was making him uncomfortable to be hearing about this, but what could he do? Derek had asked for the truth, and for once Stiles just wanted to tell someone what was going on.

“Yeah, she. The voice was definitely female. So I guess that confirms my theories about what it is.” Stiles paused as he thought about it for a second, then shook himself and continued before he got lost in thought. “She had me there and she was talking about some kind of plan, and I had a part in it somehow? I don’t know,” Stiles rubbed his face again. “I tried to wake up, to leave, but she had me there pretty good. So I just… I knew that if I died, I could leave. Don’t ask,” Stiles held up a hand when Derek went to interrupt, “I just knew. So I thought about my knife, and then it was just… there. I took it and I stabbed myself in the gut, and then I woke up.”

Derek sat back, his eyes flickering between red and blue as he thought through what Stiles had just said. He clearly wanted to be furious, to rage in a way only Derek could, but he was holding himself back. Stiles hadn’t seen the Alpha so restrained before.

 

Finally, he closed his eyes, and when he opened them again they were settled on blue. “I’m not even going to ask where you got a knife from. We need to go to Seattle and see what your witch’s guy knows. I can get us tickets for tomorrow.”

Stiles shook his head as he stood up and walked over to his desk. “I can’t, we have school tomorrow. My dad would kill me if I missed another day.”

Derek frowned. “Stiles, it’s Spring Break.”

Stiles looked up from the books he had been stacking. He hadn’t even realised it was March already, every day had just felt like it was blending into one never ending cycle of school and stress. He put the book down he was holding and looked at Derek. “You don’t have to waste money on a short notice flight,” he tried, but Derek wasn’t having it.

“Stiles,” he said firmly. “Would you stop trying to dissuade me from this trip.” He stood up, and for a second Stiles thought the Alpha was going to come towards him, but Derek simply started to pace. “It was going to happen when it was just a lead, but now,” he growled. “If she’s threatening you, we need to know everything we can so we can kill her.”

Stiles’ stomach clenched. The thought of facing that monster again, in real life, gave him a feeling of dread he had never experienced before when it came to their showdowns. He was usually so confident, or at least believed they had a fighting chance. This time though, he knew they could actually be outmatches in a fatal way. This creature was so powerful, it could invade his dreams, control his mind, or parts of it. It could actually heal him. He had no idea why she would do that, but clearly she had more planned for him and Stiles was just confused and scared.

 

“Come to the loft.” Derek seemed to have settled on a plan of action, and he was now stood still again, his arms folded and resolve clear on his face.

Stiles huffed. “Are you asking me, or telling me?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to be here right now?”

“No,” Stiles replied instantly, amazed Derek seemed to be able to tell that without him having to say it. “But what about my dad?” He asked.

“He’ll be fine, if she had wanted to get to him, she would have.” Derek sighed when Stiles still didn't look convinced. “He’s getting up for work soon, and I’ll have the pack watch him while we’re away.”

“Okay,” Stiles agreed. He then stood and looked around the room. “I need to pack then.” He started to root around in his closet until he found his larger backpack, and then proceeded to fill it with clothes for the next few days. He also threw a few books in there that might be helpful, including the one Ms Ripley had given him. Stiles then opened the top drawer of his bedside table and pulled out all the junk he had in there, putting it all on the floor, then he jimmied the bottom of the drawer and pulled that out too, revealing the hidden compartment beneath. Derek watched with a frown, and Stiles just shrugged at him when he looked over his shoulder. He then pulled the tray out where he had different herbs and medicines in old pill bottles Deacon had given him.

“Stiles, what are those?”

Stiles looked over to Derek again and saw he was staring at the contents he kept pulling out. “They’re just for emergencies,” he said defensively. He then found what he had been looking for. His knife had been given to him by Allison, though she hadn’t been extremely happy about it. But Stiles had told her it was only for his own peace of mind, so she had caved. It wasn’t nearly the biggest in her family’s collection, but it was decent sized, about a six inch blade. Military in look, black and straight, with a slight curve to the top and one edge cerated. She had called it an Ontario MK 3 Navy Knife, but Stiles really just saw it as the thing between him and the next monster to come at him. Well, he now saw it as the thing he’d jammed into his abdomen and survived, so he did feel weird holding it in his hands again. It was spotless, no sign of blood or use in any way, exactly the condition Allison had given it to him in.

“You’re not getting that onto a plane,” Derek pointed out.

Stiles rolled his eyes at the Alpha. “No kidding,” he shot over to him. “I just wanted to check it was still there.” He slid the knife back into its sheath and placed it in the draw again. He then eyed up the herbs and sighed. “Don’t think I’ll get any of those on there either, they’ll think I’m smuggling drugs.” So he placed them back in the draw too and slid the false bottom back on top of them. Derek hadn’t needed to ask why Stiles would want to bring them, he knew the boy liked to be prepared for any scenario. They had no idea what Seattle would be like, if the man Ms Ripley had recommended would be a friend or foe, and if either of them got injured, those herbs could save their life. But it was the price they had to pay for getting there as quickly as possible. And Stiles hoped that Ms Ripley wouldn’t lead them into some kind of trap. She genuinely seemed to like him, and even if she didn’t, she would want someone with the Sight to be protected, considering how valued they were by the witch community.

“You ready?” Derek asked him, snapping him out of his thought. Stiles nodded sharply, picked up his bag, and threw it over his shoulder. He grabbed his keys on the way out the house, and locked the door behind them. Not that it would do much good if this monster really did want to get to his dad, but it gave him some peace of mind all the same. Derek was right though, the Sheriff would be up and out within the hour, and he’d be safe at the station. At least he hoped he would.

 

 

Isaac was up when they arrived at the loft ten minutes later. He was sat on the couch, his fingers picking anxiously at his hoodie he was wearing. He jumped up as soon as they closed the door. “What happened?” He asked. “I heard Derek leave but he took my phone.”

Derek slid said item out of his pocket and handed it back to his Beta, a grumbled sorry along with it. Stiles dumped his bag beside the couch and threw himself down onto it, shuffling up so his back was resting against one of the arms. He shifted around, trying to get comfortable, but gave up after a few seconds. “You couldn’t choose a more comfortable couch?” He called over to Derek in the kitchen, and he could almost hear the wolf roll his eyes. Isaac sat back down in his place on the other side of the couch, still radiating anxiety as he looked to Stiles for an answer to his earlier question. Stiles sighed. “I had another nightmare, but this time I think it was partly real.” He then explained everything that had happened to the beta, and Isaac listened carefully. He was glad Isaac too didn’t think he was crazy, and believed what he was telling him. By the end of it, the wolf was fully facing him, a small whine building in his throat, only calmed once Stiles let him see there was no wound on his abdomen. “Seriously, I’m fine,” he reassured his friend. “I’m just going to stay here today and then Derek and I will fly to Seattle tomorrow and we’ll get answers.”

Isaac nodded. “Once you find out how to kill it, then we will.” His eyes flashed gold for a second. “I’m going to rip her apart.”

“Yeah,” Stiles half smiled, leaning his head back on the couch. “That’s the spirit.” He closed his eyes and sighed, long and deep, letting the lingering stress leave his body with it. Now he was in the loft, he could feel how much calmer he was. It wasn’t just that he now associated his room with invasion, but he knew she wouldn’t be able to get to him here. He wasn’t sure how to explain it, maybe it was just the fact he had two werewolf guards now, but he just knew she wouldn’t try and invade his dreams here.

 

 

The rest of the pack was updated on what was happening, and they all willingly agreed to keep an eye on the Sheriff while Stiles and Derek were in Seattle. Lydia also agreed to cover for Stiles. He called his dad and told him that he was at her lake house for a few days to help set up for her birthday party. Stiles was slightly worried that she actually expected him to help when they got back, but he could deal with that later. He spent the rest of the day planning with Derek the best they could. Stiles had tried to research the man they were going to see, but there was practically nothing on him. All they knew was his name. E Sainte. Not even his full name. It was frustrating, but Stiles knew there had been no point asking Ms Ripley for more information. He was pretty sure she didn’t know how to not be cryptic. The man knew they would be coming, and Stiles expected him to get in contact once they arrived in Seattle. Ms Ripley had assured him that E Sainte would know. As concerning as that idea was, it gave Stiles confidence that this guy would know what their monster was, and how to kill it.

 

Derek gave up with the scenario running Stiles was trying to do after a couple of hours. There was only so much the Alpha could take of Stiles’ incessant rambling most likely. So he left Stiles and Isaac in the living room and headed upstairs to his bedroom. Stiles gave up soon after. There was no point running the same bad situations through his head over and over. They would have to just improvise the best they could when they got there. Jumping head first into a situation completely blind, without a plan, was one of Stiles’ specialties. He hoped their years of practice would count in their favour for this.

 

After triple checking he had everything they would need (that he could bring on a commercial flight) Stiles suggested he and Isaac go out and get lunch, since Derek didn’t have anything in that Stiles would be able to cook. Which basically meant he had no frozen pizzas. He guessed Isaac was just happy he was interested in actually eating that he agreed without protest.

“Hey Sourwolf,” Stiles called up the spiral metal stairs. He knew the wolf would be able to hear him if he just spoke normally, but he liked to pretend all his friends didn’t have supernatural hearing. “We’re going out!” Stiles waited to see if he’d get a response, but it was silent. Sighing, he turned and headed over to Isaac already at the door.

“If you’re not back within the hour I’m coming to find you.” Derek was stood at the top of the stairs, his arms crossed tightly and that frown deep on his forehead.

Stiles half smiled. “I’m going to interpret that as genuine concern, not just you being creepy,” he informed the wolf, who huffed. “So thanks. We won’t be long.” He received a tight nod from Derek, and then the Alpha disappeared back to his room. “Right then,” Stiles clapped his hands together and he and Isaac left the loft. “What’s close enough to be there and back within an hour? And curly fries are non-negotiable.”

 

 

“You alright buddy?” Stiles asked the quiet wolf beside him as they waited in the drive-thru for their order. Isaac shrugged, still looking out the window, obviously thinking about something. He hadn’t really said much since Stiles had arrived that morning, and it was disconcerting. But Stiles was going to leave it alone, for once. He knew Isaac would either open up in his own time if he needed to, or he just wouldn’t. It was a coin toss with the introverted boy, something Stiles was still trying to adjust to. With Scott, it was easy to tell when something was bothering him, and he was always quick to talk about what it was. There wasn’t a lot left unsaid with his best friend. But Isaac was different. He seemed to like to deal with things by himself a lot of the time. And that was fine, Stiles knew people were different, but he wanted to help his friend and he couldn’t do that when he had no idea what he was thinking. So he had learnt to just leave it alone and wait. Unlike with Derek, another non-sharer, rambling usually wasn’t the answer either. He’d noticed that Isaac could only put up with it for so long before it started to stress him out. Whereas he could talk for hours at Derek without the Alpha even looking at him. Well, he would glare, but it never seemed to aggravate him the same way it would Isaac.

 

Stiles pulled the car forward, paid for their order and handed Isaac the huge bag of food so he could keep driving.

“The wolf is telling me not to let you leave,” Isaac finally piped up, still staring out at the passing trees.

Stiles frowned. “Why?”

“I don’t know, it must be a pack thing. I want to protect you, and if you go to Seattle then I can’t exactly do that.”

“I’ll be with Derek though,” Stiles pointed out. “And I know he always says he’d let me die, but I don’t actually think he would.” His joke did make Isaac’s lips twitch, and the wolf looked over at him finally. Stiles patted his arm. “Don’t worry about us man, it’s only a few days, and then we’ll be back and ready to end all this.”

Isaac still didn’t look convinced, but he nodded.

“Plus,” Stiles added. “When we get back, I’m pretty sure Lydia is actually going to rope all of us into preparing for her party, so we’ll be at her lake house for a few days.” Stiles grinned at his friend. “I think I’ve found a strain of wolfsbane that can actually get you guys drunk. It’ll be fun!”

Isaac shook his head with a smile, but there was definitely some excitement in the beta’s eyes. “Sure. Five werewolves, a banshee, a huntress and an all knowing Seer alone together in a cabin in the woods. What could go wrong?”

Stiles laughed. “Exactly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, sorry this took so long! I’ve barely had time to write and I’ve also been doing a whole bunch of stuff to do with my driving licence too so that’s fun....  
> But, I’m here now, and I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I cut it a lil short just because we’ve got the long awaited trip next chapter, and that actually went so long I split it into two, so look forward to those!  
> Thank you again to everyone who’s been reviewing and giving this story some love. I really appreciate all of you and am so glad people are reading this tale :)


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

  

Stiles had only flown a couple of times before in his life. Once had been to visit his Aunt and Uncle in Florida when he was nine, where they took him to Disneyland despite him telling them he didn’t really like Disney all that much. Another had been about a year after that, when his mother started to get sick. The whole family went to stay with his Grandparents in Arizona for a week. He realised now it was so she could break the news to her parents face to face, rather than over the phone. But back then Stiles had just been excited to go see the cacti and they even took a trip to the Grand Canyon.

 

But, apart from those times, Stiles really had very little experience with airports and planes in general. He had decided he wasn’t a fan. 

 

The airport had been busy, filled with college students heading out on Spring Break holidays to Mexico, and families wanting to get away for the week their children had off school. It was chaos as he and Derek had tried to check in, the lines for the desks so long they snaked around the barriers and trailed out towards the main doors. Luckily, Derek had spotted the self checkin kiosks, and since they didn’t have any checked bags, they were able to scan their IDs and bypass the nightmare line. Stiles could hear customers starting to yell about delayed flights and missed connections even as they made their way up the escalators to security. He felt sorry for the people behind the desks, all of whom looked stressed already, despite it only being 10am. 

 

Derek had hustled them through security as quickly as possible, obviously uncomfortable with all the machines and suspicious eyes around. The Alpha seemed to be handling the crowds well though, probably just practiced at it from his time in New York, Stiles had thought to himself as he’d stepped through the metal detector. Of course it had beeped for him, and he saw Derek snap his head over in his direction, having already gone ahead and grabbed their bags. Stiles had stepped to the side and raised his arms, allowing the security officer to run their hands over his body in search of what set the machine off. He wasn’t carrying anything, so just looked over the man’s shoulder as he did his business, unbothered by the quick ordeal. Derek however looked agitated, and Stiles could almost swear he saw the wolf’s eyes flicker red for half a second. When he looked again though, they were back to the normal blue green, hidden beneath Derek’s furrowed brow. He had handed Stiles his bag once the pat down was done, and his fingers brushed Stiles’, making him shiver involuntarily. The wolf seemed to walk closer to him after that, their shoulders almost bumping as they made their way through duty free and towards the screens with their gate number. 

 

Stiles had asked the Alpha what was wrong once they were sat in the purposefully uncomfortable seats outside their gate, but Derek had just shaken his head and stared out the large windows at the runway, the flashing beacons pulsing along the straight tarmac as planes slowly crawled their way in and out of the surrounding gates. 

 

The worst part about flying though, Stiles had decided, was the aeroplane itself. He was grateful Derek had even managed to get a flight at such short notice, but the seats they were in were small and cramped, so uncomfortable that Stiles found himself shifting constantly to try and find a better position. He was also plastered against Derek’s side, the wolf having taken the window seat, leaving Stiles with the middle one and trying very hard not to elbow the stranger on his other side. He didn’t complain about that though, knowing Derek wouldn’t be able to cope with having a stranger pushed up against him for two hours. So Stiles took one for the team. He did seem to irritate the business woman next to him though, as she kept shooting glares his way every time he tried to cross his legs or fold his arms differently. Eventually, Derek had just raised the arm rest between their two seats and shuffled up against the side of the plane, gesturing for Stiles to use his chest to lean against. He was hesitant, but it did give a few extra inches of room which calmed him down almost instantly. He hadn’t even realised there had been a vague panic building inside, until Derek’s warm chest was pressed against his back and he could feel the wolf’s breath on the top of his head, allowing his mind to slow and his heart to stop pounding against his rib cage. He muttered a thanks, and Derek had only grunted in response.

 

It was weird. The Alpha had been so silent their whole time driving to the airport, more so than he would be normally. And he barely said anything to Stiles during their wait for the flight. Even now, on the plane, he was staring out the window, barely responding when Stiles had tried to initiate a conversation. He had expected a degree of reticence between them, this was Derek after all, and their most recent arguments were still pretty fresh in both their minds Stiles was sure, but as soon as they got up that morning Derek had almost been avoiding him. Quite a feat considering they were now pressed against each other in a pretty tight space for two hours. And yet it felt like the wolf was trying his best to avoid engaging with him.

 

Stiles yawned, feeling his eyes start to droop. He hadn’t slept well that night, tossing and turning on Derek’s terrible couch until he finally just gave up and padded softly up the metal stairs and towards Isaac’s room. He had opened the door as gently as possible, hoping he didn’t startle the wolf or wake Derek up down the small hallway. Isaac had only rolled over and opened one eye, immediately knowing what Stiles wanted and shuffling up in the bed, holding the covers up so Stiles could slip in next to him. The wolf had fallen back asleep almost immediately, and Stiles used his soft breathing to lull him to sleep finally at around 3am. 

 

Unfortunately, they’d had to leave at 8 to get to the airport on time, giving Stiles only about five hours sleep. But five was better than none, and he was used to functioning on less than that at this point. It was also uninterrupted, a very rare occurrence these days. He had felt some kind of probing at the edges of his dreamless sleep, but nothing had managed to invade his mind while he was safe in the loft. 

 

Stiles found himself almost asleep when the plane started to lurch. He sat bolt upright, anxiety surging adrenaline through his body. He felt Derek place a calming hand around his wrist, fingers pressing gently against his pulse point, his grip leeching the panic away almost like the black veins would with pain. Stiles closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep calming breath, then opened them again and looked over at Derek.

“It’s just turbulence,” the Alpha murmured. Stiles nodded, finally relaxing back against his chair. He checked his watch. They would be landing soon, there was no point trying to fall back asleep. Instead he reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out. It was in airplane mode, but he could still read one of the books he’d downloaded while he had WiFi. It was part of an old Polish folklore book, once belonging to his mother. Stiles liked to reread it sometimes, as it had been one of his favourite bedtime stories. As he started to read, he could feel Derek’s eyes on the phone, watching him scroll slowly. He looked up at the wolf with a raised eyebrow.

“Is that in Polish?” Derek asked, frowning.

Stiles nodded. He was surprised the man could identify the language from just a few glances.

“I didn’t know you read Polish,” Derek said, partly under his breath, almost like he was speaking to himself. 

Stiles just shrugged. “My mother taught me.”

“Are you researching?”

Stiles snorted, finally looking back up from his phone. “I do actually like to read for fun sometimes you know,” he pointed out. When Derek still didn’t look completely convinced, he rolled his eyes. “It’s the legend of Lech, Czech, and Rus. It was my favourite story when I was little.”

All Derek gave was a deep hum, his eyes back to looking out the window. Stiles just sighed and looked back down at his phone again.

“I took an Eastern European History class in my second year at college,” Derek offered after a period of silence. He was still looking out the window, but he glanced at Stiles when the boy looked up. “My professor mentioned that legend.”

It was strange, hearing Derek talk about his past so casually. Stiles had never really heard him give details like that. It was nice though, and he half smiled at Derek to show he appreciated it. “I forgot you were a History Major.” He locked his phone, dropping it into his lap and turning to Derek properly. “Where did you study?”

“NYU.” Derek suddenly looked sad, his eyes unfocused as he thought about something. Stiles knew that look all too well. “I never got my degree though, I came back to Beacon Hills before my final year.” Derek didn’t need to elaborate on that, Stiles could remember why the wolf was forced to come back to his home town. 

 

“I was looking at History programs, for college,” Stiles diverted the subject, sure Derek wouldn’t want to linger on those thoughts. “UC Berkeley even has a Folklore major. I’m pretty sure I could pass that now though,” he mused.

“I thought you wanted to go to Stanford?”

Stiles looked at the Alpha, surprised. “Yeah,” he said, hesitantly. “I didn’t think you’d remember that.” He’d only told the wolf that fact when he thought he hadn’t been listening, back when he’d sometimes let Stiles question him about his supernatural knowledge at pack meetings. 

Derek didn’t respond to his shock, instead he met Stiles’ eyes and kept their gaze, his expression intense and something close to sincere, transparent in an unguarded way Derek rarely was. “You shouldn’t settle for something that would be easy, just because it’s familiar.”

Stiles, taken aback by the genuineness of what Derek had said, found himself being more honest than he had with anyone else on the topic. “It’s not that,” he said quietly, looking down. “I don’t know if I will get in.” One of his deepest fears, and he’d just admitted it to Derek freaking Hale of all people, on a plane with the lady next to him definitely listening in.

The wolf frowned. “You’re kidding, right?” He shook his head, and Stiles was surprised to see an honest to god smile on the Alpha’s face when he looked back up. “Stiles, you’re an idiot.”

“Gee, thanks Sourwolf,” Stiles muttered, starting to regret telling the man anything.

Derek lost the smile, his eyes back to that serious genuine thing that Stiles was starting to find kind of appealing. “You’re the smartest idiot I’ve ever met. You’d get into whatever program you applied for.”

Stiles wasn’t sure what to do with that, so he shuffled in his seat again and rubbed his neck awkwardly. It was probably the nicest thing Derek had ever said to him. He didn’t realise the Alpha could even manage something so, well, kind. “Thanks,” he managed. Derek considered him for a moment longer, then turned back to the window with his more familiar unreadable expression back in place. Stiles picked up his phone again and unlocked it, but his eyes never took in the words on the page, his mind too busy mulling over the words he and the stoic man had just shared. For weeks he had been getting used to the idea that Derek couldn’t give a damn about him, and then he had to go and act like he cared again. It left him confused, angry, but mostly grateful there was a chance they wouldn’t spend this entire trip at each other’s throats.

 

 

Stiles had tried to offer to pay his half of the hotel, but Derek had brushed it off with a growled _no_ and that had been the end of it. After seeing where the wolf had booked them to stay, Stiles was actually glad he wouldn’t be having to fork out half his savings for the room. For some unknown reason, Derek had booked them into the Four Seasons. When their Uber had pulled up outside the hotel, Stiles thought maybe the driver had misread the location pin, but Derek had stepped out the car and waited impatiently for Stiles to follow him. A doorman had greeted them politely, Derek only nodding at the man before they entered one of the fanciest lobbies Stiles had ever stepped foot in. It was mix of greys and whites, leather furniture dotted around tastefully and a fireplace flickering at the back, mirrored tiles around to reflect the orange glow to give the whole place an almost glittering quality. Stiles couldn’t help but gaze around himself in awe. He suddenly wished he had worn something nicer than his dark jeans and grey hoodie. Derek, of course, looked like he belonged there, his black form fitting jeans and classic leather jacket somehow only looked elevated in the fancy setting. He pulled his sunglasses off like some kind of model and Stiles couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

 

Derek strode up to the front desk and the concierge stopped typing to greet them. Stiles hovered behind Derek, aware the man was eyeing him up and down distastefully. Derek seemed to notice too, and he gave the man his name in a clipped tone. It was amazing seeing the reaction the concierge had once he typed in the reservation to the system.

“Ah, Mr Hale! It’s a pleasure to have you staying at one of our hotels again. Your suite is ready for you.” He quickly scanned the cards they needed for the room and handed them over. “Is there anything I can do for you? Are you planning on heading into the city? I can book a car for you if you’d like,” he tried, making a point to give Stiles a wide, fake smile.

“No, we’ll be fine.” Derek replied coolly, then picked up his bag again and headed towards the elevator. Stiles scurried after him quickly, glancing at the putout concierge one more time before following Derek into the elevator and the door closing behind them.

“Dude, what the hell?” He turned to the wolf. Derek ignored him, checking the floor they were on and pressing the correct button. “Why are we staying here? And why did that guy treat you like freaking royalty as soon as he saw your name?”

Derek raised an eyebrow. “Royalty?” He echoed, half way between derisive and teasing. 

“You know what I mean,” Stiles waved his hand dismissively, still waiting for the Alpha to answer him. But the elevator dinged before he got his way, and they stepped out onto their floor. 

 

Every time they passed a door, Stiles thought it would be theirs, but Derek just kept walking. That was until they got to the last door, right at the end of the corridor. The golden lettering on the outside read _Deluxe Elliott Bay Suite._ Stiles shot Derek yet another disbelieving look, which the wolf continued to ignore. He slid his key card into the slot on the door, and the green light beeped its acceptance. He swung the door open and made his way inside, flicking lights on as he did. The room was- well even more impressive than the lobby. If Stiles was being more accurate, it was actually multiple rooms. The first was a huge sitting room, seating for at least four people all in a light cream with blue accents dotted around the room. And there was a fireplace. A freaking fireplace in the middle of the room, separating it from, _what was that, a dining room?_ Stiles thought to himself, dumbfounded. The far wall was just three huge panes of glass, the view of the Seattle waterfront clear in the afternoon sun from this high up. Stiles couldn’t help himself from moving straight to the windows to gaze out.

 

He had completely forgotten about Derek until he turned and saw the wolf running his hand along the mantle of the electronic fireplace. He frowned at the behaviour, then it suddenly dawned on him. “Are you scent marking this place?” He asked, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“It smells like other people,” Derek answered him, moving to the dining room and touching each of the chair backs before walking completely around the table. Stiles was going to laugh at him, but he could see how much it bothered the Alpha and chose to hold it in instead. He never pretended to understand how it felt for the pack,but he knew making fun of their instincts wasn’t the way to go.

“Derek, why the hell are we in this suite? We’re only here for three nights.”

“It’s less used,” Derek replied smoothly. “Fewer smells.”

 

Stiles wasn’t sure he believed the wolf, but he let it go in favour of checking out the rest of the place. He wandered down the short hall, still in awe of the place with its adjustable spotlights and gallery worthy artwork. The first door was a bedroom, the queen size bed covered in decorative pillows and a duvet that looked so soft Stiles wanted to just throw himself down onto it and bury his face. It also had windows stretching the whole length of the wall, leaving the room feeling open and airy as the light reflected off the pale walls. He moved on to the next door, opposite, which was a bathroom. Clean and luxurious, the marble gave it a regal quality Stiles almost felt uncomfortable even thinking about using it. The shower was over a huge tub, a speaker set up next to it with a place to plug an iPod in. There was easily enough space in the room to lie down spread eagle on the floor and not hit anything. Why would anyone need a bathroom that big in a hotel? He shrugged and closed the door again. The last door lead to the master bedroom. It was massive, as big as the sitting room, with an impressive king size bed right in the centre, looking as soft and cushy as the bed in the other room. Stiles was secretly glad Derek had got a place with two rooms. He had been expecting an awkward ‘who would sleep in the bed and who on the floor’ situation the whole time. He wasn’t opposed to sharing beds, obviously, but the Alpha was hardly going to be up for it. And he knew he would be the one ending up on the floor, he just knew it. So two rooms. Good. 

 

There was also an en suite in the master bedroom, the shower in it being the most ridiculous and amazing thing Stiles had seen yet. Walk in, a waterfall head, multiple other jets coming at you from different angles and reflective tiles mixed in with the marble ones to throw rainbows across the whole room when the spotlights overhead were on. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to leave this suite. He didn’t want to know how much Derek had spent on it.

 

When he re-entered the master bedroom, Derek was stood at the door, leaning against the doorframe with his bag in hand.

“Sorry, I was just looking around,” Stiles said quickly, ready to leave the Alpha’s room.

“Why are you sorry?” Derek asked seriously. Stiles didn’t really have an answer, or one he wanted to give, so he just shrugged. “You take this room, I’ll have the one down the hall.”

Stiles was so surprised he had to take a second to realise what Derek had said. “Really?” He asked.

Derek rolled his eyes. “It’s not a big deal Stiles,” he said roughly, then pushed off the door. “Let me know when you hear from your guy.”

Stiles watched him go then looked around himself again. He grinned to himself, threw his backpack down on the floor next to the dresser, then launched himself onto the bed. It was as satisfying as he had imagined. 

 

He pulled his phone out once he was sat with his back in the hundreds of pillows and looked for a message from this mysterious E Sainte. Still nothing. He was starting to worry that the man wasn’t going to get in contact, and they’d wasted a whole trip up here for nothing. Stiles sighed. He had to believe Ms Ripley was right, and he was expecting them and would be contacting them soon. So he checked his other messages as a distraction. He had one from Scott, telling him he was on watch first with his dad and that everything looked normal. It was comforting, and Stiles was glad his best friend knew he’d want to hear about it. So he replied with a thanks and told Scott they were in Seattle and the hotel was insane. He then opened the message from Isaac. He seemed worried he hadn’t heard from them yet, so Stiles clicked on the FaceTime feature and watched himself as he called the boy. Isaac picked up almost immediately, his concern evident even over the slightly blurry video. Stiles grinned.

“Hey man,” he greeted. “We’re safe and sound, no need to worry.”

Isaac sighed in relief, his own smile appearing on his face. “Are you in a pile of pillows?” He asked.

Stiles laughed. “You bet!” He held the phone further away to show Isaac the huge bed. “Dude, you should see this place. Derek got us a fancy suite! It’s huge.” He then clambered out of the bed, and flipped the camera so he could show Isaac the room. “This is my room, and look at this sweet bathroom dude,” he exclaimed, pushing the sliding door into the wall and pointing the phone around the bathroom at the different features. He heard Isaac’s deep whistle, obviously impressed. Stiles then turned the camera back to himself. “I know!” He said excitedly.

“That is so cool, I definitely should have come with you,” Isaac grumbled.

Stiles laughed again. “Don’t worry buddy, you can go on the next trip with Derek. Do you want to see the rest of the place?”

 

When Isaac agreed, Stiles took him out the room and showed him the other parts of the suite. When he got to the sitting room, he saw Derek in one of the chairs by the windows, a book open on his lap. “Say hi to Derek!” Stiles said, pointing Isaac towards the Alpha. Derek looked up at them and he gave Stiles a deadpan look. “Alright,” Stiles turned his phone back to himself. “Sourwolf doesn’t want to play along. Let’s go check out the minibar!” Stiles heard Isaac laugh as he made his way over to the dining room where the fully stocked bar was. 

“Stiles!” Derek called from the other room. “If you touch any of that alcohol-“

“I know, I know!” Stiles called back. “You’ll rip my throat out with your teeth!” He rolled his eyes to Isaac who laughed again. “You need to come up with some new threats Sourwolf,” he said in a normal tone, knowing Derek would hear.

“How about I’ll tell your dad you went on an excursion to Seattle for three days when he thought you were with Lydia the whole time,” Derek replied, this time much closer. Stiles spun around and glowered at the wolf.

“You wouldn’t,” he decided, “you’d be implicating yourself in the process.”

Derek just shrugged, pretending he wasn’t actually apprehensive about the Sheriff, but Stiles knew the truth. He smirked at the Alpha and Derek just rolled his eyes, returning to his seat again. Stiles turned back to Isaac. He was about to ask the boy what he’d been getting up to, when his phone buzzed.

“Oh hang on,” he told him, switching apps quickly. “I just got a text.” He opened it up and saw it was from an unknown number. All it had was an address and time. “I think it’s from E Sainte,” he informed both wolves. “Okay Isaac, I should go. It’s game time.”

“Be careful,” Isaac said softly, the anxiety back in his eyes.

“We will,” Stiles reassured him. “I’ll let you know how it goes.” He then said goodbye and hung up.

 

 

Stiles knew Derek hated going in blind to situations like these. Every time they had been forced to, he’d been on the verge of shifting from the start, his super control the only thing holding him back. This time was no different. As soon as they arrived outside the nightclub, Stiles could see Derek fighting with his wolf, trying to keep it at bay. It was busy for a Monday night, the long line outside the door of excited club goers was humming with energy. They could hear the thumping music leaking through the door, the bass low and the beat rhythmic, enticing, drawing you in with its hypnotic style. They walked straight up to the bouncer, as the instructions had told them to in a text Stiles had received half an hour after the first. The bulky man let them in without a pat down, which Stiles was grateful for after he saw how tense Derek was. He was pretty sure the wolf would have ripped the man’s hands off if he’d tried to touch him.

 

The converted warehouse was dark and hot, strobe lights highlighting different areas too quick for Stiles to follow. Bodies were writhing on the dance floor. The smell of sweat and alcohol were intertwined, cloying and overpowering even to his human senses. Stiles looked over at Derek and saw his eyes were red, clearly not able to hold that part of the shift back. It was probably helping him map the room, trying to spot where their mystery man could be. Stiles didn’t really know what they were looking for, but he tried to see through the haze of dry ice and drunken bodies to spot something out of the ordinary. He felt Derek’s hand suddenly clasp around his forearm and he tried to look where the wolf’s attention was being directed, but he couldn’t see anything. So Derek pulled him forward, through the throng of people, until they reached the back part of the club, where the VIP section was. It was up a short set of steps, and there were a few large round tables where men wearing suits and women wearing very little were perched, watching over the pulsing dance floor.

 

The table at the end was the most full, and at the centre sat a young man, probably only a few years older than Derek. His hair was a dark emerald, with streaks of silver running through that you could only see when the light hit them. His red button down shirt was undone almost to his waist, and his arms were resting on the back of the bench, keeping his posture open and wide, commanding the attention of the people around him effortlessly. His expression was relaxed, but Stiles could see his eyes were focused, clear, and dangerous. He watched them approach carefully, a wide smile breaking across his face. As soon as they were at the table, he waved his hands and the group of people around him all stood, disappearing back down the steps and into the crowd. He then gestured for them to take a seat on the opposite bench. Stiles glanced up at Derek, who was staring resolutely at the man before them, then decided to take the lead and slid into the seats. After a pause, Derek followed suit. 

 

As soon as they sat down, it was like they had entered a bubble, the noise of the club dulling to a low thump. Stiles looked around and he could now see a faint shimmer around them. A spell. Was this man a witch then? Or did he just know one. Stiles wanted to fidget under the man’s heavy gaze, but he knew enough about supernatural meetings to tame his urges and send out confident vibes. So he folded his hands on the table to keep them from picking at things and he met the man’s stare head on. He seemed to like that, as his smile widened and he lowered his arms from the bench behind himself, sitting forward and mimicking Stiles’ posture.

“Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale,” the man drawled, his voice deeper than Stiles had been expecting. 

“E Sainte I presume?” Stiles replied. He wasn’t normally the one to take charge in a situation like this, but he was the one the man had been expecting. 

“You can call me Enoch,” he said casually. At Stiles’ expression, he waved his hand. “I know, with a last name like Sainte, my parents thought a biblical name would be fitting.” He paused, smirking. “It was a different time back then though.”

Stiles knew what the man was doing. Enoch knew they had no idea what he was, knew he had the upper hand, and he was baiting the question. Well, two could play at that game. Stiles sat back, a smile of his own playing at his lips. “I’m sure it was,” he replied. He could feel Derek’s attention on him, but the wolf was good at hiding his surprise, and Enoch didn’t catch it. Stiles only knew because Derek’s arm was pressed up against his and he could feel the muscles shifting under the leather jacket sleeve. 

“Ms Ripley told me about you Stiles.” The man’s demeanour, though outwardly just as relaxed as before, had changed. His tone was more careful, controlled. His eyes were narrowed ever so slightly. He leaned forward. “She warned me you would be clever.”

Stiles didn’t like the way the man’s eyes were now freely roaming, taking him in with a hint of - what was that, hunger? He tried to ignore it. “She told me you would have answers for us.”

Enoch sat back again. “I don’t discuss business here, this place is only for pleasure,” he purred the last word out, smirking again at Stiles.

Derek growled lowly, almost making Stiles jump, the vibrations running through him from the Alpha. “Then let’s go somewhere else so we _can_ discuss business,” Derek’s voice was noticeably strained, holding back something.

The man finally looked towards the wolf, eying him up and down too, though only with a look of mild curiosity. He then looked back to Stiles. “How about we meet again, tomorrow night,” he suggested. “I have so much to show you.”

At this point, Stiles could feel Derek was close to losing control, his muscles already bunched, ready to pounce across the table any minute. He knew they needed to get out of there, so he agreed to the next meeting quickly.

Enoch smiled wide again. “Excellent, then I’ll see you tomorrow Stiles,” he said smoothly. As they stood, he continued, “I’ll text you the address.”

Stiles looked back over to him to nod.

“I have your number after all,” the man boldly winked, and, not knowing what to do with that, Stiles pushed Derek ahead of him and followed the Alpha out through the crowd.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that’s part one of the Seattle trip! Hope you guys enjoyed. I’ll try and get part two up soon so it doesn’t feel as broken up :)  
> I’m loving all your comments on this, each and every one brings a smile to my face and they just inspire me to keep writing, so thank you!


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

 

Stiles knew Derek needed a minute to wolf out. They were about a block away from the club before the Alpha growled so low Stiles almost didn’t catch it. Derek pulled them behind a building then started to pace, his face shifting between human and not so human, eyes a continuous glowing red. His claws were extended, and Stiles could see him clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to gain control of them again. It seemed it was getting harder, and Derek was starting to sprout fur in different places. Stiles had no idea what to do. He’d calmed wolves down before, but never Derek. He’d always been so controlled. But here, right now, the Alpha was far from that. Stiles was completely rattled from their encounter with Enoch, he could feel his heart racing and the all too familiar adrenaline pumping around his body. It was only made worse by the increasingly stressed Alpha before him. If they weren’t careful, Derek was about to go full on wolf in the middle of an unfamiliar city and Stiles would be able to do nothing to help.

 

“Stiles,” the wolf growled out finally, the word getting caught around his fangs that were extending below his lip. “I need you to talk.”

Stiles faltered. “About what?” He asked.

“Anything!” Derek snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously.

“Alright,” Stiles ceded, wracking his brain for something, _anything_ , to say to the wolf. “You know,” he started, not even sure where this was going. “Do you remember when I first got out the hospital, and we went grocery shopping together?” Stiles didn’t wait for Derek to actually show him he remembered, he just continued. “We saw one of my dad’s deputies, Marvin. He told my dad we were there together, and the next morning my dad asked if we were more than friends.” Why was this where he was taking the conversation? Stiles laughed, though it sounded more nervous than humorous. “That was the first time someone had actually asked if I was gay.” He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation, now, with Derek Hale wolfing out in an alleyway in Seattle. “I told him no, obviously. We were just hanging out. I told him I wasn’t gay. But, it made me stop and think. And I don’t think fully straight people even pause at that question.” Stiles looked down now at his shoes, thinking. He continued as if talking to himself, kind of forgetting why he was doing this in the first place. “It kept coming up after that. I guess when you start paying attention, you begin noticing it all over the place. I told Scott the next day, and he seemed to think it could be true, but he didn’t say anything. I think I just never really thought about other guys because I was so obsessed with Lydia. But now I know we’re way too similar to ever actually work out, I haven’t really seen another girl that I’d be interested in. I mean, don’t get me wrong,” he bit his lip, frowning, “I like girls. I think they’re great, and hot. But I also think I might find certain guys kinda great and hot too.” He had said it. The thing that had been bugging him at the back of his mind for months. He looked up then, and Derek was stood about six feet away, his face completely human and his eyes back to their normal colour. He was just staring, and in the dark Stiles couldn’t work out his expression. That’s when he realised what he had just been saying out loud and his face flushed. “I- sorry dude, I didn’t mean to say all that, I was just trying to talk and-“ he began to ramble, his hand running through his hair awkwardly until Derek stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he said gruffly. “Thanks.”

Stiles looked up at him, face still red and feeling incredibly embarrassed for admitting all that out loud. “No problem,” he breathed. They stood like that for a minute, both just looking at each other, the words Stiles had spoken hovering in the air between them until finally Derek pulled away and got his phone out.

“We should get back,” he murmured. Stiles nodded in agreement, and they made their way out of the alley to a street where the taxi could pick them up.

 

 

They were silent as they rode back to the hotel and made their way up to the room. Stiles was so lost in his own thoughts that he almost walked straight into Derek when he had paused at the door to insert the keycard. When in the suite, they still awkwardly skirted around each other, Stiles quickly excusing himself and closing his bedroom door behind him. He groaned into his pillow after he threw himself down on his bed. He couldn’t believe he had said all that. But, the more he thought about it, the better Stiles felt. He had finally got it off his chest. Even if it had been to a half wolfed out Derek, he was glad he had been able to admit it to someone. Everything he had said had been true, it wasn’t like he was making it up on the spot just to give Derek something to listen to. Maybe he just needed the push to finally be brave enough to confront it. It probably came out because Derek was the source of so many of the thoughts that had him questioning himself in the first place. He couldn’t deny it any longer. Derek Hale was ridiculously attractive, and he, Stiles Stilinski, was very much into that. Clearly, completely out of his league was his type. Because of course it was, nothing was ever easy in his life.

 

He heard a soft knock on his door just as he was finishing up the message he’d composed for Isaac and Scott to update them on the Enoch situation.

“Come in,” he said quietly as he sent the text. Derek entered the room slowly and then hovered awkwardly by the door. Stiles sighed, then put on a smile. “Knocking on an actual door, that’s new,” he commented and it made Derek roll his eyes, but the Alpha’s expression was still serious.

“We need to talk about earlier.”

Stiles gulped. Was Derek about to tell him to keep his emotions to himself? Tell him to stop having inappropriate thoughts about him? “Talk about what?” He asked, a false calmness in his voice.

“The fact that Sainte guy is going to try to court you.”

Stiles blanched. “What?”

Derek shifted, jaw tight and arms folded. “He is a vampire. He thinks you would make a good mate.”

“Mate?” Stiles exclaimed. “We only just met, why would he think that?”

Derek huffed. “It’s not about knowing you, it’s about what you represent. Part of a powerful werewolf pack, a Seer, taken. It’s all things he finds desirable.” Derek growled. “I could smell it on him.”

Stiles put his head in his hands. Could this day get any worse? “Wait,” he looked up. “Taken?”

Derek shifted uncomfortably again, but he kept eye contact. “Yes, Stiles, taken. He knows you are with Isaac, and it makes him want to claim you, since he’d be taking you away from another creature.”

“Woah, hold up,” Stiles held up his hand as he sat straight. “Why would he think I was with Isaac?” Stiles paused, the clogs going in his brain. “He doesn’t know who Isaac is,” Stiles frowned at the wolf. “What you really meant was he thinks I’m with a wolf in your pack, and _you_ are the one who thinks it’s Isaac.” Stiles shook his head. “Is this why everyone was being so weird around us? They think we’re _dating_?” 

“It’s not a hard deduction to make,” Derek replied defensively. “You both stink like each other.”

Stiles couldn’t help but let a guffaw escape. “Oh my god, you all think we’ve been boning behind everyone’s backs.” He shook his head in bemusement. Derek was now frowning heavily, a hint of anger building that Stiles knew he should try and diffuse. “Dude-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“ _Derek_ ,” Stiles corrected, “Isaac and I are not dating. When he comes over, we hang out because we’re friends, and he sleeps in my bed because I think it helps both of us.” He sighed. “My nightmares aren’t as bad if he’s there, and I’m pretty sure he still sleeps badly too unless someone else is around.” 

 

Derek did look calmer, but he was still frowning. He seemed to take a minute to absorb the information, like this somehow changed something for him. Stiles was confused, but honestly he was still trying to get over the fact all his friends actually thought he and Isaac had been dating. He had stood up from the bed and started to pace, finding it easier to think while he did so. This new revelation didn’t really explain though why Erica had been so hostile towards them. Even if they had been seeing each other, she shouldn’t really have anything against it. Unless she was somehow emotionally invested, which would only be the case if she liked one of them. Stiles was going to go out on a limb here and assume it wasn’t him Erica had a lingering crush on. She’d already admitted she was over that. So it must be Isaac. Stiles halted, head spinning. He’d always thought Erica and Boyd were a thing, a pretty strong one actually. What if she was secretly in love with Isaac?

 

“This doesn’t solve the problem though,” Derek finally spoke again, pulling Stiles out of his thoughts. The threat of being abducted by a crazy vampire intent on making him his mate was far more important than worrying about pack drama. 

“And you’re sure this Enoch guy is going to try and kidnap me and make me his mate?”

Derek growled again at the word and he closed in his eyes for a second, regaining control. “Yes,” he muttered.

“Okay,” Stiles renewed his pacing. “So how do we tell this guy I am completely not interested without insulting and maybe enraging him?” He was wracking his brain, trying to think of anything and everything he might have read on the subject. He wished he had his books, or even his laptop.

“The only way to stop a vampire from taking what it wants is to convince him that you’re already mated to another supernatural being, someone as strong as him.” Derek’s voice was grave.

“Well great,” Stiles threw his hands in the air. “Let’s just go and find one of those, convince them to _be my mate_ , and then problem solved!” He cried, running his hands through his hair and pulling at the top, sure he now looked like a madman. He didn’t feel like it was uncalled for though, this was his _life_ they were talking about. He knew how serious these creatures could be. If this vampire wanted him, he was going to take him unless they did something about it. Stiles realised Derek had been silent for a while, and he looked at the wolf desperately. The Alpha’s expression was not the anger, or frustration he was expecting, but unsure, on the verge of saying something but seeming to fight with himself about it. “Dude, if you’ve got a plan, don’t hold back on me,” Stiles pleaded.

“It probably won’t work,” Derek tried, but sighed when he saw Stiles’ desperation. “If we could convince him that you are my mate, he would back off.”

Stiles gulped. “And that- that could work?”

“I’m an Alpha. If you were my mate, no other supernatural creature would be allowed to touch you.”

 

Stiles found himself sitting back down on the bed, his head in his hands. This was going to be impossible. From what he knew about werewolves and mates, he could see a hundred different ways this could go wrong. A mate was so intertwined with its werewolf partner that other wolves could sense it from them, could smell their connection like they could emotions. To convince a vampire of their fake bond would require more than just holding hands and smiling at each other. Their mannerism would need to be in sync, their whole focus on the other like it was second nature, adjusting to the needs of the other without blinking. Stiles was pretty sure he couldn’t fake something like that, not to mention Mr Uncommunicative who he hadn’t seen behave even remotely romantic towards anyone. Derek was good with his pack, and had really worked on the physical stuff, but Stiles could see the barriers he still had up over that kind of contact. He lost his whole family, of course he was resistant to creating bonds as close as that, but it wasn’t about to act in their favour in this situation.

 

“I get you don’t want to do this with me, but it’s our only option,” Derek said as he stepped further into the room finally and sat down on the armchair in the corner.

Stiles faltered. _With him?_ Derek really had no idea how many times Stiles had thought about this, or at least something with the Alpha. Every thought that had lead to his confession earlier stemmed from the wolf in one way or another. The worry for Stiles wasn’t to do with Derek being _undesirable_ , it was quite the opposite. What if he couldn’t keep this professional? What if his stupid emotions decided to get involved, and he couldn’t tell the difference between fake and real? Stiles shook his head, rubbing his face, aggravated. “It’s not about want,” he said quietly then looked up. “We can’t pull something like this off.”

Derek huffed. “I know, but we have to try.” His expression was suddenly very earnest, vulnerable even. “We have to.”

Stiles shuddered under the intensity. “Okay,” he conceded. “Then what do we have to do?”

 

 

And that was how Stiles found himself lying pressed up against Derek Hale’s bare chest in the master bedroom, his own covered by one of Derek’s t-shirts. The Alpha’s arms were wrapped around his waist loosely and he was huffing soft breaths against Stiles’ neck. The thing was, Stiles thought he would be tense - maybe so wound up he wouldn’t even be able to sleep. But he could feel his body unconsciously relax into the embrace, the warmth so much more comforting than anything Stiles had felt before. It was crazy, this was a man who had threatened him on multiple occasions in the time of their friendship. Hell, Stiles had been kind of terrified of the man for at least the first year of knowing him. But here he was, freaking snuggling into his chest like the greedy little spoon he secretly was. And Derek, for some unknown reason, was allowing it. Had suggested it. Supposedly, this would be a faster way to get his scent on Stiles. It wasn’t exactly going to duplicate the kind of intermingling of smells that should be there if they were _actually_ a couple, but it might fool Enoch enough for their meeting. 

 

“Stiles,” Derek breathed quietly. Even in such a low tone, Stiles could still hear the hint of exasperation that usually came when Derek addressed him. “Stop thinking,” the Alpha ordered.

“Sorry,” Stiles murmured. He shuffled, trying to adjust so he could slip his hand under his pillow and relieve the pressure on his shoulder. Or, at least that was the excuse he gave himself for getting closer to Derek. He could almost feel the Alpha’s heartbeat against him, the thought of the soft rhythmic thump had his own heart calming and his mind slowing. He could feel the edges of sleep starting to creep over him, the heaviness pulling him down until finally he closed his eyes and let it take him.

 

 

Derek barely slept that night. It had little to do with the stress at the thought of their futile plan falling through, and a lot to do with the warm body encased in his arms. That constant jittery behaviour was gone as Stiles slept, stillness only broken by the fluttering of that heart beat that meant everything to the wolf. It was all too much and not enough, overly hot skin on slightly cold, rough fabric a barrier between them still that made the wolf in him angry - or was it him? When it came to the boy next to him, Derek really wasn’t sure. The lines were so blurred at this point, both animal and man reliant on a fundamental level that it wasn’t clear where the feelings were coming from at times. Derek knew what that meant, had known for a very long time, but he didn’t, couldn’t, confess that even to himself. He pushed and pulled at the boy as he battled with his own nature - the wolf desperate to claim, the man determined to keep him safe. And those were two states very much at odds with each other. Or were they? Sometimes Derek would think maybe they weren’t mutually exclusive, but he’d brush it off quickly, knowing it was just the wolf trying to trick him, trying to get its way.And even if he did give in, did believe giving the wolf what it wanted wouldn’t put Stiles in more danger than he was already, the boy wouldn’t choose that - wouldn’t choose _him_. 

 

He felt Stiles stir around seven. Derek had drifted in and out of sleep the whole night, each time waking with his arms tighter around the boy and his face buried in his hair. And, each time, he’d pull back and scold himself. This wasn’t real. He was giving the wolf a taste of what it wanted and it was taking all it could get, and he was worried it wouldn’t want to let go. In that moment, he wasn’t sure if _he_ wanted to let go. But Stiles was starting to roll over, so he loosened his grip and allowed the boy some movement. He didn’t expect Stiles to then use that new freedom to shuffle even closer to him and bury his face in his chest, his nose tucked perfectly against Derek’s collar bone and a soft hum emanating from the boy. Derek’s immediate instinct was to lean down and nuzzle the tousled bedhead, breathing in the scent of Stiles that was now infused with his own. He froze. _No,_ he told the wolf, pulling back again. “Stiles,” he said through gritted teeth, trying very hard not to breath in too deeply again. The boy groaned, then stiffened, showing he was now awake and aware of the situation. He quickly pushed himself back and away from Derek, his face flushing a deep red and the smell of embarrassment tinging the enticing scent still radiating off him. Derek had to get away from it before it was too much. He swung his legs over the bed and stood, turning his back to Stiles so he could run his tongue along his gums, forcing the fangs back in. He was behaving like a teenager, it had to stop. “I’m going to shower. I’ll use your body wash to try and help with the scents,” he informed the human in his best emotionless voice. He then headed into the bathroom as soon as he heard a mumbled reply from Stiles, locking the sliding door behind himself and resting his head against the wall beside it, closing his eyes and dragging in deep, controlling breaths.

 

 

Enoch Sainte’s house was exactly what Stiles had been expecting. The huge gothic mansion was most likely hidden from human eyes by a spell, as they only saw it once entering through the gates and headed up the long, straight drive lined with tall spindly trees. They had been greeted by a butler of some kind when they reached the front door, so cliche Stiles wanted to snort but he held it in as Derek elbowed him, the Alpha knowing exactly what he was thinking. The entrance hall was almost fully made of dark wood and golden fixtures, the chandelier hanging low from the ceiling, a dozen flames flickering from it, casting long, looming shadows around the room. The rest of the house they saw was the same way, like someone had taken it straight out of a nineteenth century English novel. Enoch clearly enjoyed living every vampire stereotype. Stiles half expected to see him rise out of a coffin. Sadly, the man was instead sat in the middle of a huge dining table, stretching the whole length of the extravagant room. Derek had been walking close beside Stiles the whole time, his fingers brushing Stiles’ hand every few steps, purposefully running up his palm and rubbing his wrist gently, a sign of intimacy they had decided looked the least forced. But when Derek saw the vampire, his hand ran up Stiles’ arm and he gripped the back of his neck, squeezing softly before letting go again and stepping forward. Stiles hadn’t been expecting it, but he took it in his stride, keeping his face calm and his body relaxed. Enoch hadn’t missed the possessive gesture, and his lips twitched.

 

“Derek, Stiles, it’s a pleasure,” he greeted, nodding at them both. He stood from his seat and gestured to the two other places laid out. Stiles was grateful to see they were beside each other, opposite the vampire. He slipped his hand into Derek’s and pulled him over to their seats. The wolf followed him with no resistance, making sure to pull Stiles’ chair out for him before sitting down himself. They sat with their legs pressed together and Derek’s arm loosely draped over the back of Stiles’ chair, his body leaning back in a relaxed manner. It was all fake of course, Stiles knew how tense the Alpha was, but it did portray a confident demeanour while keeping his claim over Stiles very clear.

“Before we get started,” Enoch folded his hands on the table, “I believe I owe you an apology.” It sounded sincere, but he still had that smirk on the corner of his lips. “I didn’t realise Stiles here was your mate,” he directed towards Derek. “It’s clear now that you have a claim on him, and I must have missed that when we met yesterday. I hope you can forgive me,” he bowed his head. Stiles couldn’t believe it, had they really fooled him?

“Stiles and I haven’t completed the bonding yet, so I can forgive your mistake. But we are fully intending on it,” Derek added the last part firmly, his words purposeful and direct that left no room for discussion. 

“Yes, I see that,” Enoch nodded, glancing between the two of them then smiling widely. “How about we have some dinner and we can discuss your supernatural dilemma?” He snapped his fingers and four well dressed waiters entered the room, all carrying trays of food that they placed along the table. The smell coming from it all was enticing, but Stiles was slightly confused.

“You eat?” He had to ask, even though he knew Derek was glaring daggers at him.

Enoch just laughed. “I can, if I’ve kept up a healthy diet of blood.”

Stiles nodded, surprised but pleased he’d been given a straight answer. He was eyeing up the nearest dish of food now, steam rising off the bowl of stew, the smell sweet and rich. He knew though that it was the custom to let Derek go first. So Derek reached forward and grabbed Stiles’ plate first, filling it with the things he’d been drooling at and giving back to him before doing the same with his own. Enoch picked at what he wanted, then nodded to a waiter who came around with a bottle of suspiciously red liquid. Stiles looked at it warily and Enoch laughed again.

“Don’t worry, it’s a Merlot.”

Stiles had never had red wine, but after sipping it he decided that was definitely something he should invest in more. Though, going by the dusty bottle and worn label, it was probably a very old wine he was getting to try, and definitely out of his price range. Maybe Derek could splash out one day with that secret stash of Hale money he seemed to have. He’d have to remember to suggest it to him later. If they lived through this dinner without being found out, that is.

 

“So,” Enoch placed his fork down and took a sip out of his own glass. “I hear you’ve been having a problem with a flesh eater.”

“Yeah,” Stiles put his own cutlery down, glad they were actually getting on topic. “The first attack was a few months ago, and there have been two more since then.”

Enoch nodded. “And do you have any ideas?”

“I think I’ve narrowed it down to a lamiai and empusai, but I can’t work out which one it could be. The book Ms Ripley gave me only had basic definitions in it, and nothing on how to kill either one.”

Enoch frowned. “She told me she gave you that.” He popped an olive into his mouth. “Isn’t it in Ancient Greek?”

Stiles shrugged. “I learned the basics so I could translate it.”

“Impressive,” Enoch mused, for once sounded very much sincere. Stiles couldn’t help but smile, glad at least someone realised how much effort his research took. Enoch turned to Derek, who was silently watching the exchange. “You have quite a remarkable mate Derek,” he commented, taking a sip of his wine. Stiles felt Derek’s chest rumble, the vibrations reverberating through their touching arms. The Alpha moved his hand to the back of Stiles’ neck again and squeezed, perhaps slightly harder than necessary, but Stiles could tell the wolf was fighting with his control so he let it go. Instead, he also reached up and let his body move instinctually, cupping Derek’s jaw with his hand and stroking his cheekbone softly with his thumb. It was as much a faux affectionate move as it was a way to calm the wolf. He felt Derek lean into his palm slightly, and his eyes fluttering closed for a brief second, then opening again with no tinge of red around the edges.

“Oh he knows it,” Stiles joked to Enoch, trying to lighten the mood as he pulled away from Derek and looked back towards the vampire. Enoch smirked. Derek’s hand hadn’t moved from Stiles’ neck, but he let the Alpha keep it there. He was secretly enjoying the heaviness there, the comfort it brought and the fizzes of a nerve endings firing as Derek’s nails started to lightly run up and down the base of his scalp.

 

Stiles had actually found it a little hard to concentrate after a while, the tingling from Derek’s rubbing distracting him as he explained everything they knew about the attacks to Enoch. Once he got done with it and Enoch was pondering what he’d been told, Stiles leaned away from the touch and shot Derek an apologetic look. The wolf quickly pulled his hand away and stared stoically at his plate. Stiles felt bad, but he knew if the Alpha had kept going, the growing heat inside of him would have started to become a problem. So he distracted himself with Enoch’s questions, and then listened as the vampire explained what he knew of both creatures.

“They are both rather rare,” he said finally, “and are very similar beings. I can see why you weren’t able to work out which one you are dealing with.” Enoch sat back in his seat. “But from my experience, it sounds like an Empusa.”

“So the three legged brass-donkey-woman hybrid?”

Enoch chuckled and shook his head. “Some of the legends are a little ridiculous, I admit, but they were fantastical times.” He seemed to lose himself in thought for a second. “But yes, this one is close to the truth. She is a multi legged demon who feeds on young men. But, they shape shift. The only one I encountered was around five hundred years ago, and she preferred to remain in her human form. I believe most do these days. It’s harder to get away with supernatural tendencies in the modern world you see,” Enoch flashed his teeth in a wide smile, and Stiles saw his elongated fangs catch the candle light.

“Okay,” Stiles nodded, trying to shake off the fear that rippled through him at the site of the teeth. “So she could look like anyone. Cool, great,” he muttered to himself, trailing off as he started to think. He was trying to remember if he’s spotted anyone who looked out of place in the recent months. Beacon Hills wasn’t small enough for him to know everyone, but he was usually pretty good at remembering faces. Something was bugging him, niggling at the back of his mind like it was trying to scratch free but he just couldn’t grasp it.

“I can almost hear his mind working,” Enoch commented plainly. “Does he often do this?” He directed his question to Derek, who had been watching Stiles carefully. He sighed and nodded.

“Yes, it’s a habit of his,” he said, and if Stiles wasn’t mistaken, it almost sounded fond. He then realised it was probably still part of the act, so he rolled his eyes playfully at the wolf.

“Well one of us needs to be the thinker,” he joked automatically, grinning when Derek gave him his classic Sourwolf look.

 

“Would you like dessert before we discuss how to solve your monster problem?” Enoch’s question snapped them out of their moment, and Stiles shook his head.

“I think we would prefer to discuss the methods of killing this Empusa,” Derek answered for them.

“Fair enough.” Enoch then waved his hand and the waiters from before entered the room, taking the empty plates away and the rest of the uneaten food, bowing out politely and closing the doors behind them again. “There is only one way I know of to kill an Empusa. And it is going to require a pretty powerful spell and a dagger of pure silver dipped in human blood.”

“So would my blood still work, even though I am a Seer?” Stiles asked.

Enoch hummed, taking another sip of his drink as he mulled the question over. “Unfortunately no. Your blood is far too magical. But,” Enoch quickly continued, “it is not the Seer aspect that is the problem.”

Stiles felt Derek shift beside him, like he knew what was about to be said. “So what is?” He asked.

“A human bonded with a werewolf, regardless of whether the bond has been completed yet, is still infused with their magic, their essence. It’s what makes spotting a mate so easy.”

Stiles swallowed his suddenly dry throat. Had they been caught? They couldn’t have faked that.

“We vampires have a harder time picking it out of course, blood is a sensitive topic for us. All of it smells so good that it’s hard to pinpoint ones with particular strains of magic in it. I confess that must be why I didn’t spot your bond yesterday.”

Stiles couldn’t believe how lucky they were. He nodded with a small, forced smile to show he had heard Enoch. Something about his Seer-ness must be throwing Enoch off, so he thought he could smell something in his blood that wasn’t there. Stiles knew he should change the topic off this before Derek started to actually vibrate with the low rumble coming from his chest that had started as soon as the vampire across from them had mentioned Stiles’ blood. “So we’ll need a witch for the spell?”

“To be on the safe side, yes,” Enoch nodded.

Stiles frowned. “The safe side?”

“Well, I have heard rumours that Seers are sometimes able to do certain kinds of spells, whether they were originally a witch or not.”

“Really?” Stiles asked excitedly. Maybe he could actually be a part of this in a meaningful way for once. He could be helpful. If they could use his blood and he could do the spell, he would be an integral part of bringing this Empusa down.

At the daggers Derek was suddenly sending the vampire, Enoch quickly added, “they’re just rumours.” He held his hands up in defence. “And, like I said, it is only certain kinds of spells. I’m not sure you would be up for something this powerful Stiles.”

Sighing, Stiles nodded. “Yeah, sure,” he sat back, disappointed. Derek seemed to have calmed slightly now Stiles was dissuaded from trying it himself. He still was gripping his leg a bit too strongly under the table, but Stiles didn’t push him away if it meant the wolf was no longer glaring at their host. “So once we have a witch, the dagger, and a human to give their blood,” he added for appearances, “is there anything else?”

“The spell will hold the Empusa down long enough for someone to stab her in the heart. You have to get it directly in, otherwise it won’t work.”

“Okay, witch, spell, dagger, heart. That sounds simple enough,” Stiles nodded to himself, looking over at Derek for the wolf to agree. The Alpha was frowning again, but he gave a very slight nod to Stiles, who then turned back to the vampire opposite them who was watching closely. He had shadows falling across his face now so his eyes looked more black than anything else. They glinted dangerously as he considered them, licking his bottom lip slowly and deliberately and fingering his now empty glass. Stiles knew he was thinking about their impending departure, and he hoped beyond anything that the vampire wasn’t about to tell them they couldn’t leave.

“Well,” Enoch said finally, clapping his hands together with a smirk. “What a delightful evening it has been.” He snapped his fingers and a waiter came back in holding a scroll of parchment and an elegant feathered quill. Enoch took them and started to scrawl across the yellowing page, his hand moving slightly too quickly to pass as human. He etched words and drawings into the paper, finally finishing with an exaggerated wave of his arm and a wide smile on his face. “Your spell,” he held out the parchment for Stiles to take, which he did gingerly. Enoch then stood and they followed suit. “Let me show you out,” he insisted, and both Stiles and Derek glanced at each other quickly before making their way after the vampire out the room and back down the hall.

 

Enoch stopped in the entrance hall and nodded at the two men by the huge front doors, who swung them open, letting a cold blast of air into the room. Stiles and Derek stopped too, facing the vampire with Stiles’ hand loosely gripping Derek’s arm, as much for his own comfort as it was for their ruse. Enoch smiled. “It truly has been a pleasure,” he stepped forward, and before Stiles could react, had grabbed his other hand and pulled it to his lips, bowing his head down and pressing them to the back of it lightly. Derek let out a snarl, eyes flashing red and not even trying to hide it. Enoch smirked again and pulled away, his eyes bright and mischievous. “Do not fret Derek, I can tell this one belongs to you.” He stepped back. “Such a shame,” he added plainly, smile turning almost sad before he sighed and straightened himself. “I have taken the liberty of having a car brought round for you. It will take you straight back to your hotel.” 

 

Stiles felt cold and shaken and he just wanted to leave so he could scrub his hand where Enoch’s mouth had been. He couldn’t even find words to say to the vampire who was looking at him expectantly. Luckily, Derek came to his rescue, and wound an arm around his waist tightly, calming his shifting enough to bid the vampire goodbye and quickly turning and pulling Stiles out of the house. They both got into the sleek black car silently, and the driver pressed a button so a screen slid up between the front seats and the back, giving them some space and privacy. Stiles still couldn’t say anything, his breath coming out unevenly. The car quickly made its way down the drive, and it wasn’t until they reached the highway that Derek slowly unwound his arm from around Stiles. The wolf was still tense though, and he kept looking down at Stiles’ folded hands, his eyes flickering between blue and red every few seconds. It seemed he finally gave in to something, because Stiles saw him close them briefly before turning fully to face him.

“Stiles, I need your hand.”

Without thinking, Stiles held it up for Derek to take. The wolf carefully grasped it in his own and brought it up to his mouth. For a second, Stiles thought he was going to do the same thing the vampire had just done, and he pulled back weakly, feeling his stomach churn. But Derek instead breathed out slowly over the area, his hot breath fanning out over Stiles’ cold skin, leaving it tingling instead of numb. Derek then rubbed it gently against his own neck, his eyes closed and his nostrils flared as he did so, clearly trying to catch if the scent was gone. Honestly, it would look bizarre to anyone watching, but Stiles too closed his eyes and let Derek’s wolf behaviour calm him, the dirty feeling slowly draining out of his system. When Derek was done, he looked over at the wolf and smiled softly in thanks. He didn’t need to voice it, Derek nodded in understanding, then left the hand resting on his neck, Stiles now slowly winding his fingers around the back and gripping it cautiously. Derek only leaned back into it, closing it eyes again and letting it be. It was such a vulnerable move by the wolf that Stiles’ breath caught in his throat. They stayed like that, quiet and close, the rest of the car ride, both letting the other calm them after the stress of the meeting they had just engaged in. Stiles couldn’t let himself believe they had gotten away with it, not until they were safely back in the hotel. And only then did he let himself relax, collapsing back into the sofa and closing his eyes, breathing out a long, deep breath and letting the last of the adrenaline seep from his system.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that was one of my favourite chapters to write! Hope you guys enjoyed it, let me know what you thought!


	11. Chapter 11

  

* * *

 

Things were different now. Stiles wasn’t sure why, but ever since the trip, it felt like something had changed. 

 

That night, when they returned from Enoch’s place, they’d sat together in the living room of the hotel suite, the TV on as background noise as they quietly decompressed together. When Stiles had finally calmed enough to feel tired, he said goodnight to the Alpha and collapsed onto the bed that still vaguely smelled like him. Stiles was disappointed they wouldn’t be sharing it again, but he quickly shut that idea down. Of course they wouldn’t. He was surprised though when he woke up in the middle of the night to find Derek sat with his back resting against the side of the bed and his head against the covers. Stiles wasn’t sure if the wolf was asleep or awake, but in his drowsy state, he shuffled over so he could thread his fingers into the Alpha’s hair, falling back into unconsciousness quickly. They hadn’t spoken about it the next morning. Stiles had wanted to, kind of, but he wasn’t sure how to even broach the subject so he let it go, putting it down to wolf behaviour and leaving it at that. He assumed once Derek had rid himself of all the residual bad feelings of the day, things would return to forced cooperation and vaguely galled glares - the established norm now for them. Their fake relationship was over and they had to go back to being Derek and Stiles. Nothing had actually changed. 

 

Except it had. There was now a kind of shared openness between them that hadn’t been there before - like a wall had started to crumble and where Stiles used to feel it constantly pushing him away from Derek, keeping any kind of physical or emotional interaction distant and cold, it was like the space between them now was passable and unresistant with no tinge of hostility anymore. It was more than just Stiles feeling comfortable with the Alpha, it was like they were finally in sync - when their arms would brush he leant into it instead of pulling away, when their gaze met he didn’t look down or over Derek’s shoulder. And Derek was doing the same. He’d noticed it in the airport as they waited for their flight home. They sat in the metal seats with their bags at their feet, and Derek had laid his arm around the back of Stiles’ chair, resting his left leg on the other so his foot was just against Stiles’ knee. The boy hadn’t pulled away, he’d just kept scrolling on his phone. 

 

Stiles was worried it would all disappear as soon as they were back in Beacon Hills, the wall returning and Derek would be back to being grumpy Alpha who pushed him away under the guise of protecting him. 

 

But it didn’t. They held a pack meeting as soon as they were home, and Derek had actually consulted with him first about it. As soon as Stiles had checked in with his dad and told him some lies about Lydia’s lake house, he’d headed over to the loft where most of the pack already were waiting. After a greeting from everyone, he’d ambled into the kitchen to find himself a drink, and Derek had followed him in. When Stiles had gone for a glass from the cupboard, he’d turned to find Derek already holding the carton of milk, a small smile on his face when Stiles look surprised. The Alpha had taken the glass from his hand and poured it for him, putting the milk back silently. He hadn’t even chastised him when Stiles called him Sourwolf, only shook his head in exaggerated resentment. They both chose to stand when addressing the rest of the pack, and Stiles couldn’t help but notice all the wolves’ eyes trained on their movements every time Derek would look to him to explain, willingly giving him the floor and nodding along with what he was saying. It left a warmth in the pit of his stomach that stayed all the way to the end of the meeting. 

 

In fact, it stayed for most of the next day which Stiles spent at home with his dad. It was hard keeping the lie up, especially since the trip had been so successful on a multitude of levels, but they watched TV together and talked about his dad’s work and it was nice. Stiles told him he’d be headed back to Lydia’s lake house the next day for her party, which they actually would need to set up for. The Sheriff seemed a little suspicious, but Stiles was pretty sure that was because he knew there would be alcohol there, rather than having an inkling his son was lying to him about his whereabouts for the past few days. He warned him about the charges for underage drinking before he stood and yawned, giving Stiles a pat on the shoulder and heading upstairs to bed. Stiles watched his dad with a smile, glad he was home and the Sheriff was okay. He knew he should sleep too, and for once he actually felt tired at a reasonable time. So, choosing to embrace it, Stiles headed up the stairs soon after his dad and curled up in his own bed with his phone in his hand. He finished up his conversation with Isaac and locked it, putting it on the bedside table and flicking the lamp off. He knew he’d have to talk to Isaac about what Derek had said, but that problem could wait another day. For now, he just needed to accept the sleep already creeping over him.

 

 

Derek knew what was happening, but he wasn’t even trying to fight it anymore. What was the point? The wolf had gotten a taste of what it wanted, had wanted for so long, and it wasn’t about to let go any time soon. The best he could do was keep it under control, try and keep a lock on the most basic instincts that were coursing through his system now, invading every thought and pulling, tugging, at his whole body so he found himself physically having to hold himself back. There was so much his wolf _wanted._ He had to keep it in check though, couldn’t put the boy in a situation that made him uncomfortable - or worse, force him into something he didn’t want. 

 

But, honestly, Derek had thought it would much harder to contain the wolf than it had been so far. Relaxing around Stiles was actually easy, easier than any other interaction he had with people, even the rest of the pack. He’d spent so long trying to convince himself that being anything other than cold towards the boy would open the floodgates. And yet, here he was, smiling and touching and the wolf was yet to break free of his hold on it. In fact, it seemed to have calmed slightly, only nudging at his control rather than clawing desperately at it every time the boy was around. It only got bad when Stiles wasn’t in the room with him, where he could see and smell and hear him, soothing the wolf’s incessant chant of _claim, mine, want_. 

 

Derek dreamed of that night in the bed, the feeling of Stiles curled in his arms, the human’s soft breathing matching his own. But the dreams soon morphed into fantasy. Stiles would wake up and instead of pulling away, he’d push himself closer still, his mouth pressing against bare skin and large brown eyes would look up with blown pupils and Derek would lose himself in them. The dream had happened both nights the boy had been away from him. Both times Derek would wake panting, his whole body on fire and his wolf almost howling. After letting the residual feelings drain out slowly with every calming breath, he’d found himself itching to run to Stiles’ house, telling himself it was to make sure he was okay, but knowing deep down it was so he could hear that heartbeat and let his lungs fill with air that smelled of sugar and cinnamon and old books that was so distinctly Stiles, Derek could recognise it anywhere. But he knew he shouldn’t. He could cope for two nights, two nights away from the boy and then he’d be back with him, and things would feel right again.

 

Derek was aware things couldn’t stay this way. He was letting himself go too far, beyond the point of no return. Maybe that had happened a long time ago. But he couldn’t bring himself to care right now. He knew, deep down, in the rational part of his being that did exist somewhere, that he’d have a choice to make soon. When a wolf finds its mate, there’s very little that can keep it from claiming them. He’d been fighting it for far longer than any other wolf he knew of. Maybe it was the loss of his pack at a young age, maybe it was the guilt that stemmed from that and his refusal to form close bonds with anyone after the fire, but whatever it was, he’d ignored the connection with the young boy for as long as he could. And now he knew he couldn’t anymore. Not with Stiles’ scent mixed with his own in the most _perfect way_ still fresh in his mind, the boy’s touch still tingling on his skin, and his smile - god, Derek couldn’t help but feel warmth in his stomach when he thought about that smile being directed at him. It was pathetic, his pining, but he knew it was only going to get worse. He wanted to push for more - wanted to curl his hand around Stiles’ neck, like he’d done that evening in Seattle. Wanted to bury his face in his chest and just _breath_. But he had to think of the boy and what he definitely didn’t want. Derek knew Stiles didn’t want a relationship with him, absolutely didn’t want to be stuck in this supernatural life when he could _get out and_ ** _live_. **Stiles could be anything, do anything, he wanted, and being tied down to Derek was not something a 17 year old boy should ever have to choose. Especially one as truly extraordinary as Stiles. But was he selfless enough to let him go? Derek truly didn’t know, so he pushed it away to deal with later, his whole body desperate to put it off for just a few more days, a few more weeks. He could do that. He had to.

 

 

Derek knew Isaac had been surprised when he accepted his offer to join them at Lydia’s party. The invite had only been a gesture on Lydia’s part he was sure, the girl definitely not expecting Derek to accept. But he knew Stiles would be there, and it was just another excuse to spend a couple more days with the boy before they had to deal with the ever growing list of looming problems. Derek drove both him and Isaac out to the lakes that lay about an hour outside of Beacon Hills. They were surrounded by forest, and he remembered vaguely coming to this area once with his parents when he was young. They’d do camping trips every weekend when he, Laura and Cora were little, his dad teaching them the survival skills and his mum conducting the werewolf training. The lakes were often too populated for them to visit, but one year they’d gone out there when a huge snowstorm had made the area virtually inaccessible. He smiled to himself at the memories. It had been a very long time since he’d been able to smile at thoughts from his childhood. In that moment, he wished he could tell Stiles about it. There was so much he kept locked away that he wanted to share with the boy. So much he knew Stiles would enjoy hearing about. _Maybe one day,_ he thought to himself, ignoring that part of him that doubted the day would ever come. He couldn’t even bring himself to imagine what he’d do if this all ended without Stiles in his future in some way. And that alone scared him to death.

 

 

Lydia’s family lake house was beautiful. A huge wooden structure with a porch that had a bench set up with muddy boots underneath it, firewood stacked up by the front door and two tall potted plants either side. Stiles had only been here once before, and it had been a night he spent more time trying to catch Lydia’s attention than he did actually admiring his surroundings. Now he was more clear headed, he was able to appreciate it. Lydia had obviously helped with the decor, her personal touch evident in every room. She liked dark colours to accent a place. Stiles knew that from her bedroom, and he could see it all over the house. He mentioned it to her when he arrived and she smiled.

“You’re surprisingly perceptive with some things Stiles, and so spectacularly oblivious with others,” she said before handing him a box full of fairy lights. “Now I need these all up the bannisters, can you do that?” She asked with a sweet smile that wasn’t fooling anyone. Stiles knew if he said no there would be hell to pay. So he chose to ignore her first comment and just beamed back and accepted his fate.

 

By the time Stiles heard Isaac’s voice, he was just finishing up with his job. He stood up and leant over the bannister that overlooked the front room and saw Isaac’s mop of curls first. He then saw that familiar leather jacket and realised Derek had actually turned up. He did his best to ignore the butterflies that suddenly started to flap around in his stomach and grinned at the two. 

“Sourwolf, are you actually going to have _fun?_ ” He called down to them.

Derek looked up and rolled his eyes. “Someone has to be the clear minded one,” he echoed Stiles’s phrasing from the other night, a smirk playing at his lips when Stiles realised. Before Stiles could reply with a snarky remark, the doorbell rang again and Lydia answered. The guy who she’d managed to get to buy the alcohol had arrived. Stiles could just see out onto the drive from his position, and it looked like Lydia had bought enough for an army. She instructed the guy on where to put it round the back of the house, and when he looked around himself uselessly she rolled her eyes and called out for Jackson. The boy gladly dropped the helium canister for the balloons he’d been using and strode over to the front door to help the guy out. Lydia then turned to Derek and Isaac, that down to business look now permanently on her face. She checked her to do list in her hand and nodded to herself.

“Okay boys, enough chatting. Isaac, I need you to set up the punch table outside. You’ll find everything you need in the kitchen, and Allison can show you were to put the table.” Isaac didn’t wait to be told again. With a quick look up to Stiles who gave him a thumbs up, the wolf made his way out the room towards the back of the house. Lydia then turned to Derek. “And you Derek,” she scanned the list again.

“You know I am the Alpha right?”

Lydia didn’t even look up. “I don’t care.” She then smirked and met his gaze. “You can help Stiles with the garland. It needs to go all up the stairs, and I want some in each room down here.” She looked up to Stiles, and raised her voice, “it has to be tasteful though!” She emphasised. Stiles just grinned at her, so Lydia looked back at Derek. “You need to keep him from putting tassels everywhere.”

Derek sighed but nodded, seemingly aware he wasn’t going to win an argument with Boss Lydia.

“Okay,” Lydia flicked her hair over her shoulder. “I need to check on how Boyd and Erica are doing with the decorations outside. Don’t make this place look like a gypsy caravan!” She pointed at Stiles who held his hands up innocently, but the smile tugging at his lips made her shake her head as she left. With energy in his step, Stiles skipped down the stairs and came to a stop beside Derek.

“Let’s do this thing Sourwolf,” he clapped his hands together and grabbed the nearest pile of grey and rose gold tasseled garland, draping it over his shoulder so he could find the end of it.

 

Stiles had managed to get tangled up in the decorations more than once, and every time Derek would have to hold him still so he could pull at the garland until it came loose. He’d give the Alpha a guilty smile, and the wolf would just raise his eyebrows at him like he didn’t believe it had been an accident. Honestly, the first time had been, but after Derek’s hands were on his shoulders and running down his arms Stiles had known he could get the man to do it again. After they finally managed to get the last of the stuff up in the rooms on the ground floor, Stiles admired their work. Derek had kept him from going crazy, and it even got a nod of approval from Lydia when they checked in. She then assigned them to more tasks, this time sending Stiles outside to help Boyd set up the sound system and Derek to the kitchen to assist Allison with food prep, since he seemed to be the only one with any actual skills in that department.

 

They all finally got done with everything Lydia wanted by late afternoon, giving everyone enough time to change and freshen up before the first partygoers arrived. Not only were most of Beacon Hills High invited, but Lydia had also extended the invitation to Devenford Prep, their closest rivals. She rolled her eyes after Jackson started to complain when she’d mentioned it, claiming they needed some variety at the party. Stiles wasn’t too unhappy, especially when the boys started turning up and he let himself appreciate the view. He had just finished up making the batch of werewolf friendly alcohol which was being stored upstairs in one of the spare rooms when he saw a group of the lacrosse players enter the house. He vaguely recognised them from matches they’d played, and gave a nod to ones who made eye contact with him. One even smiled, holding up a hand in greeting. He quickly slipped passed them though in his pursuit to find Isaac so he could tell him the alcohol was ready. 

 

Instead of finding the boy though, Stiles spotted Derek by the fire pit and made a beeline for him, grabbing a premixed drink on the way in one of the glittery cups Lydia had insisted on using. She had declared red solo cups too trashy and would never have them at her party, so Jackson had been forced to go back out and get the closest thing he could find to her requirements. Knowing the cups had put Jackson out gave Stiles a satisfactory feeling, and he was quite happy to sip from it with a grin on his face at the thought. He had even grabbed one of the paper iridescent straws to go with it, adding one of the decorative starfish that went with the vague Little Mermaid theme, just for the flare. Derek was staring at the fire, the light bouncing off his dark features so his eyes danced between ocean blue and sea green, rippling with the changing flames and Stiles had to stop to admire them, _him,_ for a second. 

 

He only snapped out of it when the Alpha looked up and saw him staring with the straw half dangling out of his mouth. Correcting himself quickly, Stiles made his way over and sat down. Derek looked back at the fire, a small smile tugging at his lips like he was in on some joke Stiles hadn’t heard. He decided he liked it though, even if the joke was at his expense - the smile crinkled the corners of Derek’s eyes and unfurrowed his brows so he for once looked like the world wasn’t resting on his shoulders. Stiles wanted to see him like that everyday, see the wolf relaxed and smiling _at him_ everyday, always, like they were just two people enjoying each other’s company and one wasn’t a supernatural creature and the other a teenager who may or may not be psychic. But there was too much history there between them for things to ever just be _normal_. So Stiles just sighed and took another sip of his drink. Derek must have heard it, since he glanced back up and quirked an eyebrow.

“You okay?” He asked.

Stiles mentally shook himself. He was at a party and he was drinking and, yes, he might have some insane crush on a guy who was way out of his league, and yeah he could possibly die any day because of a crazy demon woman after him but he deserved to have fun for one night. So he plastered a smile on his face and nodded at the man. “Yeah, just wanted to tell you the wolfy alcohol is ready upstairs if you’re interested.”

Derek snorted, shaking his head and leaning back in his seat. “I’m good,” he replied.

“Oh come on Sourwolf, you are actually allowed to have some fun you know.”

Derek sighed in that way that Stiles knew meant he was slightly exasperated with him, but it had no bite to it like it used to. Instead the wolf pushed off his chair and half smiled again which meant Stiles had somehow won so he scramble to stand too before the Alpha changed his mind. He was amazed that Derek was actually going to loosen up and in his excitement Stiles had to fight the sudden urge to grab Derek’s hand and lead him through the growing mass of people outside. Instead he settled with walking close beside him and letting Derek part the crowd. He then took over when they were inside the house, climbing the stairs two at a time and tripping on the last one, almost spilling his drink and making Derek chuckle lowly behind him, to which he only flashed the wolf a grin and kept going.

 

 

Quite a few members of the pack had clearly been liberal with their drinks from the stash Stiles had made, going by their behaviour on the makeshift dance floor in the sitting room. The couches were pushed to the edges of the large room and the smaller furniture had, thankfully, all been removed entirely. Only the DJ decks were there, someone Stiles didn’t recognise behind them playing a blend of popular songs and his own mixes that pulsated around the room and had the bodies jumping and writhing in time with the beat. Stiles honestly hadn’t been keeping count of how many drinks he had consumed, but going by the way the music was drawing him in like a trance, it was probably quite a few. He found himself in the middle of the crowd, rocking his body along with everyone else and throwing his hands up in the air when Allison did. Lydia had just been with them, but Jackson had appeared when a group of Devenford Prep boys started getting a little too friendly and whisked her away. Scott had somehow magically appeared soon after, grabbing Allison by the waist and pulling her close, making the dark haired girl giggle and wrap her arms around his neck. In that moment, all Stiles could do was grin at his friends’ sickeningly cute behaviour. He then closed his eyes and let the music overtake him, thumping sounds of the dance track infusing with the alcohol in his system so he could feel it rise through him and overtake his limbs. He probably looked like a fool, an uncoordinated mess, but in that moment he didn’t care.

 

Stiles jumped when he felt a body pressing close behind him, and he spun around hastily, limbs trying to catch up with the movement and causing him to stumble slightly but the crush of bodies kept him from falling. The person who had startled him was one of the Devenford boys. He was tall, a few inches taller than Stiles, and his blonde hair was gelled back neatly, only a few pieces had broken free and were now falling into his bright blue eyes, giving him a disheveled look that only emphasised his carefree movements. Those eyes were looking at him with hooded lids, bright and twinkling that had Stiles kind of captivated. The boy kept dancing, not trying to move away to a more acceptable distance. In fact, he was seeming to only get closer, each twist of his hips and rock of his head side to side bringing him into Stiles’ personal space and for some reason Stiles couldn’t find it in himself to step back. He didn’t even realise when the song had changed because the boy’s hands were suddenly on his hips and their bodies were moving together and their faces were close and _wow was this actually happening?_ He couldn’t feel anything but the music and the buzz of alcohol and the boy in front of him. It was intoxicating in its own right. Every other movement, the boy would tighten his grip and pull Stiles closer, until they were inches apart and Stiles could feel the boy’s chest against his and the boy threw his head back and Stiles didn’t really know what he was doing but he felt the ecstasy of it all so he closed his eyes again and just let himself _feel_. 

 

He was pulled outside by the boy after they had danced for what felt like an eternity. The air was cold now and fewer people were milling around down on the patio where the food tables were, choosing instead to either huddle around the fire pit or under the wooden canopy over the deck, clutching their drinks close and some passing definitely not cigarettes between them. The boy led Stiles past the people and down the stone steps towards the much quieter area at the dock stretching out onto the lake. Stiles had finished his drink a while ago, and he kind of wished he had another one to occupy his hands with as he finally got a good look at the boy. He was attractive in that classic, preppy way, with a wide jaw and flat nose. His full lips were turned up in a smirk that made Stiles shiver and he wanted to blame the cold but he knew it wasn’t that. The fact his eyes kept flicking down to those lips every few seconds proved he was much more interested in what else they could do. The boy seemed to realise what Stiles was thinking, and he pushed off the wooden railing and was in Stiles’ space again, face so close to his own their breath was mingling. Stiles felt his own lips part instinctually, and then there was no space left and he was kissing him. It was odd, and yet it wasn’t. The lips were rougher than any he’d felt before (which weren’t many) but they moulded to his quickly and it all sort of fell into place. The boy seemed to know what he was doing, so Stiles let him lead. Their mouths pushed against each other, and when the boy’s lips parted, Stiles let his tongue dart out to meet his. He hadn’t realised he was pressing the boy against the wall until he felt his hands, that were wrapped around his shoulders, graze against the rough stone. It made Stiles pull away, chest heaving and but breath catching in his throat each time. The boy looked utterly ravished, and Stiles felt his cheeks flush knowing _he_ was the cause of that.

 

Instead of letting his embarrassment overcome the buzz he still had, Stiles leaned forward again and initiated their second kiss. It was exhilarating. He couldn’t believe this was actually happening. His head was spinning, round and round and falling and flying at the same time with everything solely focused on the body in front of him.

 

“Stiles! We were- _oh._ ” It was Scott’s voice that had Stiles pulling away and stumbling back in surprise. Suddenly, his vision started to get blurry and he had to blink a few times to focus on the figure still on the stone steps.

“Scott?”

“Dude, sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, interrupt. Man I’m sorry, I’ll just-“ he gestured awkwardly, drunkenly, over his shoulder and quickly retreated back up the steps. Stiles ran a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the wooden fence and tried to hide his sudden uncertainty. The spell was broken, and he was starting to realise he had just been full on making out with some strange guy in the dark. Said stranger also ruffled his own hair, though he was still smirking happily.

“So,” the boy said. “I’m Alex by the way.”

Stiles couldn’t help but snort in amusement before reaching out and shaking Alex’s extended hand. “I’m Stiles,” he replied.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Stiles.”

Unsure how to respond to someone who he’d just had his face attached to not five minutes ago, Stiles rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “Yeah, I should probably go see what my friends wanted.”

Alex nodded. “Sure, we can go back. You have to agree to one thing though.” He stepped close and slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone. “Let me give you my number.”

Taken aback by the directness, Stiles agreed and pulled his own phone out to add the new contact. He noticed he had quite a few missed calls from different members of the pack, and he started to feel bad that he’d disappeared without telling any of them. But then Alex handed him back his device and pressed a light kiss to his lips before starting up the steps and Stiles kind of forgot that guilt again. He steadied himself one last time against the wooden rails to make sure he had his balance, then followed the blonde boy back up to the party.

 

 

Stiles wasn’t sure how Lydia had managed to only have the pack pass out at her house that night. By the time the sun was high in the sky the next morning, its beams streaming in through the many windows of the main hall and kitchen, the only people up were the three humans - basically humans? Stiles wasn’t quite sure if he or Lydia counted in that category anymore. Maybe he should start referring to them as the non-werewolves. He looked over at Allison who was trying to make herself some tea before giving up and pouring the orange juice Lydia had left out and sitting down next to Stiles at the bar. Lydia, looking better than both of them somehow, leant against the other side of the bar and sipped on her glass with her eyes glinting in that way that Stiles new meant trouble. He didn’t have the energy to try and escape though, so he just braced himself for whatever it was Lydia was about to say.

 

“So,” she started, placing her glass down carefully. “Did everyone have fun last night?” She posed the question like it was for Allison too, but she stared directly at Stiles.

He sighed. “Come on Lydia, ask what you want to ask.”

She shrugged, picking her glass up again and looking over the rim of it innocently at him. That trick might have worked a couple of years ago, but Stiles was not as easily manipulated by the redhead’s huge green eyes anymore. She huffed. “Fine. Did you, or did you not, make out with a Devenford Prep boy?”

Stiles rubbed his temples and nodded. “Yeah, I did.” He looked back up when both girls remained silent. Lydia had a calculating look in her eyes and Allison had a small frown on her face, her mouth downturned in concern. “What?” Stiles asked. When Lydia only raised an eyebrow he turned to Allison instead.

“Does Isaac know?” She asked carefully.

“What? Why would Isaac-“ Stiles paused then groaned when he realised. “Oh god, not you guys too!” He exclaimed. Just in that moment, the rest of the pack decided to trail in, their heads hung low and their eyes all narrowed against the sunlight. They all looked pretty hungover but right then Stiles didn’t particularly care. This rumour had to end. “Okay,” he clapped his hands together, making everyone in the room wince and Erica shoot him a particularly heated glare. Ignoring it, Stiles stood up from his seat and made his way to the doorway where everyone would be able to see him. “I’m going to give a little speech and you’re all going to stand there and listen.” He chanced a glance at Derek, but the wolf wasn’t even looking at him, his arms crossed and eyes set firmly down at the floor. Stiles took a deep breath. “I’m bi. I think I’ve know it for a little while but I thought I should let you all in on that development.” None of the wolves looked particularly shocked, so he continued. “Also, Isaac and I aren’t secretly dating. I don’t know what the hell gave you all that idea but we are not boning, or dating, or whatever else it is you think we’ve been doing behind everyone’s backs. So you can stop glaring at us Erica every time we walk in a room together.” The female wolf had the decency to look ashamed. “Now,” Stiles rubbed his face tiredly. “Is there anything else you would all like to know?” 

 

When none of the pack spoke up, Stiles nodded and retook his seat, resting his head down on the cool counter and letting a long breath out slowly. Scott approached him silently and placed an arm around his shoulders, squeezing tight and Stiles had to smile at his best friend. Allison then did the same, and, one by one, each member of the pack came and patted him on the back or, in the case of Boyd, gripped his upper arm comfortingly and gave a nod of solidarity. Even Jackson awkwardly thumped him on the shoulder, much lighter than Stiles expected. Probably his way of showing support, he decided and smiled at the wolf. The only exception was Derek, who remained in his position at the edge of the room with his scowl still in place. Stiles didn’t know if this was how Derek handled a hangover - he didn’t even think the wolf drank that much - or if Derek was back to normal and their whole open friendly thing was over. He felt a stab of pain at the thought of that, and had to distract himself with the steaming mug of tea Lydia had just placed in front of him. 

 

Stiles wasn’t sure if he could handle just going back to normal with Derek, not now he knew what it was like to be on good terms with the wolf. _Good terms._ He wanted to roll his eyes at his own denial. Why was he lying to himself? He’d got to feel what it was like to be with the Alpha in an intimate and emotionally open way that he’d never felt before, and it had all been _fake_. Somehow it was worse because he knew it all hadn’t been real. Stiles had no idea if Derek had actually cared at all. And now, here he was, ignoring him again. But hey, Stiles was used to the erratic behaviour from the Alpha. He could get over this, he could. It would just take longer, especially as the feeling of the man’s arms wrapped around his sleep warm body was still very much fresh in his mind. God, the tea was not distracting him at all. Before he could start alerting the far too perceptive wolves in the room of his current train of thought, Stiles stood and stretched, muttering something about a shower and quickly making his exit, brushing past Derek and forcing himself not to look up at the Alpha.

 

When he got back downstairs, Derek was gone. Isaac had stayed behind to chill with everyone before they too all had to head back to the real world. Stiles wanted to say he wasn’t disappointed, but of course he felt that sinking feeling in his chest as soon as he saw the Camaro gone from the gravel drive. He was able to cover his sulking under the guise of his hangover, and the others were all feeling so rough they just let his subdued behaviour go. He had offered to help Lydia clean up the house, but she shook her head and claimed she’d already called the cleaners to come in. When Stiles felt he was clear headed enough to drive home that evening, he offered whoever wanted it a lift back. Scott and Allison claimed they would catch a ride with Lydia, and Erica and Boyd had driven up in Boyd’s truck so they declined his offer too. Isaac nodded happily though, and now the rumour of their relationship had been squashed, they left the house to the waves and smiles of the rest of the pack. Sadly, Stiles was still too preoccupied with thoughts of a certain leather wearing wolf to be happy his friends were back to normal. 

 

 

“Derek wants to have a pack meeting tomorrow,” Isaac said into the quiet of the car as Stiles drove them back to Beacon Hills. Stiles sighed. Of course he would. They actually had real problems to deal with, problems that were of the life or death variety. He shook himself. His pining would have to be pushed aside for now. The whole pack would have to work together on this one, and that meant him and Derek would need to be civil and cooperative which could only happen if he put his stupid feelings away and kept this thing professional. Maybe once they’d put a stop to this monster, and his life wasn’t in imminent danger, he could start to work on the obsession he was beginning to get for the Alpha. 

“Hey Stiles?” Isaac said, breaking him out of his thoughts. Stiles hummed, showing Isaac he was listening. “Do you mind if I stay at yours tonight?”

Stiles was caught off guard by the question. He had kind of assumed, after his little admission earlier, Isaac would be more reticent to spend the night in his bed. “Sure,” he agreed after a pause. Then he glanced over at Isaac. “Are you sure?”

Isaac frowned. “If you don’t want me to that’s okay.”

“No!” Stiles replied quickly, shaking his head. “It’s not that.” He chewed his lip. “I just thought the whole I’m into guys too thing might make you feel weird.”

Isaac suddenly gripped Stiles’ forearm and squeezed gently. He took a minute to reply, and when he did his voice was quiet. “Stiles, even if I wasn’t a wolf and the whole personal space thing wasn’t a nonexistent thing, I wouldn’t care.” He looked up through his long eyelashes and he had that innocent look on his face that reminded Stiles of the small boy he used to see wandering Beacon Hills High before Isaac had been turned. The boy who always had bruises on his body and kept his head down in the halls so he wouldn’t catch anyone’s eye. “You’re one of my best friends.”

Stiles’ lips pulled into a wide grin despite how bad he’d been feeling before. He looked at the wolf beside him and patted his extended arm before concentrating on the road again. He didn’t need to say anything else.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, before I say anything else, I just want to thank you all yet again for the wonderful responses I’m getting on this story. Your reviews are all so positive and lovely and every single person who kudos is a gem.
> 
> So I’m thinking about going back and editing the tags on this since they probably need updating now we’re really into the story. I just didn’t want to put too many spoilers up in them, which I’ll still try and avoid but I reckon I can add a couple and it’ll be fine. So if you see another update notification, it’s just me tinkering. Sorry!
> 
> Anyway, hope you guys enjoyed. I’m getting some of those later chapters done in my free time finally so you don’t have to worry about this story getting put on hiatus :) Updates might not be back to once a week but I’ll try and keep them as regular as possible. 
> 
> Love you all, and thanks again for the love you’re showing me!


	12. Chapter 12

 

* * *

 

“I have a date!”

 

Stiles always liked a dramatic entrance, and boy did this one get a reaction. Erica and Boyd were sat on the couch, and both turned to stare at him in shock. Jackson was also there at the loft and he snorted loudly, like he didn’t actually believe it. And Derek. Well, if the wolf hadn’t looked moody before, he sure did now. His scowl was back in full force, only this time his arms weren’t crossed, they were ramrod straight at his sides, fists clenched tightly in a way that made Stiles instinctively nervous. It was Derek’s ‘there’s a threat and I have to protect my pack’ posture. Stiles wasn’t sure what had brought it on this time. He would have been genuinely frightened that the Empusa was nearby if the other wolves in the room weren’t all gawking at him, half confused, half wary. Derek was still staring at the spot of wall behind Stiles’ right shoulder like he wanted to murder it.

 

It wasn’t quite the reaction he was hoping for from the pack.

 

“Don’t act too happy guys, it’s not like this is my first date with a guy ever or anything,” Stiles bit out sarcastically, gesticulating with his hands for good measure. Not one of the wolves cracked a smile. Even Isaac, who had sat down on the other couch, was looking uncomfortable. “Jeez,” Stiles walked over to the couch and flopped down beside Isaac. “You’d have thought I just admitted to murdering someone.” Again, not one smile. Not even a lip twitch. In fact, Erica was looking increasingly worried and Jackson was slowly edging out of the room and into the kitchen.

 

The tension in the air was only broken when the loft door slid open and Scott, Allison and Lydia walked in. Immediately, Scott tensed up and his eyes swept the room, taking in everyone’s expressions. Lydia seemed to hone in on Stiles instantly, and she raised an eyebrow to ask what was going on like she knew he was the cause of it. She wasn’t wrong, but Stiles resented that she automatically jumped to that conclusion. Not _everything_ had to be his fault.

“What’s going on?” Scott asked the room. No one answered him, all looking to Derek instead. The Alpha had unclenched his hands by now, and his arms looked less stiff at his sides, but he was still frowning deeply. Finally, like it was taking as much effort as he could muster and then some, he looked at Stiles. His eyes were dark and unreadable, and he grit his teeth as he prepared to speak, clearly wrestling with something in his mind. “I need to speak to you.”

Sighing, Stiles hauled himself back up from his seat and gestured for the Alpha to go first up the metal stairs. He shot a look over to Scott, who was looking even more confused, then followed the wolf up.

 

 

Derek closed the door to his bedroom where he’d lead Stiles and came to stand in front of him again. He was close, much more than he would normally be, and Stiles could actually smell the pine scented body wash he used and that unmistakable musk that was just Derek. Or maybe he wasn’t getting it off the wolf, but from the actual room. He’d never been in Derek’s bedroom before. From his knowledge, no one had. Isaac lived in the damn loft and he still hadn’t seen inside the Alpha’s space. So why Stiles now got the privilege he had no idea. Maybe Derek actually planned on murdering him? He was about to ask Derek that when he suddenly got distracted by a photo frame on the top of a chest of drawers beside them. There was a tall white Colonial style farmhouse in the background, three stories tall and paint chipped in places to give it a warm and imperfect feel. In front of the house were four figures. Two girls were standing together on the steps leading up to the wrap around porch, the older with her arm around the younger, a smile on both their faces as they posed for the photo. The other woman, a tall, fierce looking one with her hair pulled back and her arms crossed in an achingly familiar way was standing closer to the camera, and it looked like she’d been caught mid step, making her way towards whoever had taken the photo. The last figure was unmistakable. Even as a teenager, Derek had those dark eyebrows and perfect hair. He was sitting in the grass outside the house, to the left of the porch steps, almost out of frame. He had a book in his lap and his expression was vaguely annoyed, like whoever had taken the photo had disrupted him. Stiles didn’t realise he had moved over to the photo until he was running his finger over the glass, grazing it over the young Derek.

 

“Stiles.” Present day Derek snapped him out of the trance he was in and he felt his face flush. Quickly he stepped away from the picture and looked over at the Alpha. He was expecting him to look furious, but Derek wasn’t scowling anymore. He was frowning, sure, but it looked almost sad instead of angry. He was looking at where Stiles’ hand had just been.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said quickly.

Derek shook his head. “No,” he paused. “It’s okay.” He cleared his throat, turning away from the photo and back to Stiles.

After a minute of just silent staring, Stiles rubbed his neck awkwardly. “So,” he prompted. Derek’s chest rumbled. “You needed to speak to me?”

Again, Derek only stared silently, his brows furrowed and his arms crossed.

“God, is this to do with my date? Do I have to, like, ask the Alpha’s _permission_?” Stiles exclaimed.

Derek shook his head. “No,” he said through gritted teeth. “You don’t have to ask my permission.” He huffed angrily, clearly struggling with what he was thinking until finally Derek uncrossed his arms and looked Stiles in the eyes. “Do you think now is a good time to be…” he trailed off but his eyebrows finished his question.

“Dude, we haven’t even found a witch yet to do the spell, and I still need to get ahold of Deaton so he can help me with the whole silver blade thing. I feel like the man is dodging me. Anyway,” he waved a hand in dismissal, “I don’t think one date can do anyone any harm. Scott and Allison go on dates all the time!”

Derek sighed, closing his eyes briefly then turning and making his way over to his bedside table. “I’ll be down in a minute. Tell Erica and Jackson they have perimeters to run. We’ll catch them up on the meeting when they get back.”

Realising he wasn’t going to get anything else out of the wolf, Stiles sighed too and nodded to his back. He took one last sweeping look at the room he would probably never see again, then left the Alpha and headed back downstairs.

 

Erica and Boyd both looked up at him and Jackson poked his head out of the kitchen cautiously. They all looked like they were ready to bolt if necessary. Stiles sighed and rubbed his face. “Derek says you and Jackson have perimeters you need to go run,” he directed at Erica. The girl faltered for a second then stood and nodded. She pulled on her shoes quickly, grabbed Jackson by the shirt, much to his complaint, and the two left the loft without another word. Stiles checked his phone. He had a few missed texts from Scott, who had been running late before reaching the loft, as he’d managed to run into Allison’s father when he picked her up. Stiles felt mildly sorry for his best friend - Chris Argent was terrifying. Stiles sat himself down next to Isaac with a huff and received a pat on the knee from the wolf. He looked over at Allison and Lydia who were shooting him curious looks, then finally at his best friend. Scott looked slightly flustered still but unharmed, so the interaction with his inevitable future father-in-law couldn’t have gone too badly. Stiles knew he should ask his best friend about that later. They hadn’t really talked much recently, what with everything going on, and Stiles felt bad that he hadn’t checked in on his friend recently. Though, Scott hadn’t really checked in on him either, so maybe he shouldn’t feel too guilty.

 

Derek rejoined them a few minutes later, his demeanour back to regular Sourwolf and not murderous rage monster, which Stiles could see had the pack relaxing around him. Whatever the issue had been, Derek had clearly resolved it within himself. Annoyingly, it most definitely wasn’t resolved with Stiles, but it looked like they were back to their normal, uncommunicative state, so he’d have to deal with that himself.

 

Derek didn’t say much in the meeting, and no one else had anything to report, so the pack gathering became a research session, with all of them looking into where they could find themselves a witch and a silver blade. Stiles had some sites online he thought could be helpful for the blade search, so he sent them to Allison who was scouring through them with Lydia over her shoulder. Boyd and Isaac were sat at the long table by the windows with Derek, going through his mother’s old contacts to see if they would have any knowledge of a witch that would be willing to help. That left Stiles and Scott to consult quietly about the human blood issue. Stiles knew, once they found the blade, he couldn’t just slice open his arm and let it bleed all over it. There would be some kind of ritual they would have to do to make sure it infused with the silver properly. He’d tried getting ahold of Deaton by himself, but the man was basically impossible to contact. Scott told him he’d been away from the practice for weeks now, appointing a vet friend of his to run the place in his absence, which was why they hadn’t seen the kind of creepy guy for a while. Scott always frowned when Stiles called his boss that, but honestly, the guy really did creep him out. He was always so evasive and mysterious and they _still_ had no idea how he knew so much about the supernatural. All of it was suspicious and Stiles was not about to change his mind about that.

“He told me he’d be back next week though,” Scott said quietly. Stiles nodded. Good, that gave them enough time to get a blade so he could take it over and have Deaton help him. He wasn’t sure how, but Stiles knew Derek wouldn’t be too happy about the plan, so he told Scott to keep it quiet and then they rejoined Allison and Lydia to see how far they had got with the search.

 

 

Stiles’ stomach was in knots. He had changed his outfit three times already and they all basically looked the same. He really didn’t have a wide variety of clothes. Maybe he should actually let Lydia take him shopping - he was starting to realise why she was always nagging him about it. When he finally settled on the fourth choice, a plain white t-shirt with his khaki chinos and a denim jacked he barely ever wore, Stiles looked himself up and down in the mirror and left his room quickly before he could change his mind. He’d given himself enough time to slowly walk downstairs and take a deep breath before entering the kitchen for the talk he needed to have with his dad.

 

When the Sheriff saw him, he raised an eyebrow inquisitively. “Going somewhere?” He asked, putting his fork down and sitting back in his chair at the kitchen table.

“Yeah I- er- have a date,” Stiles managed to get out.

“Yeah?” His dad looked pleased, a smile spreading across his face and it made Stiles feel his chest clench. “So who’s the lucky gal? Anyone I know?” The Sheriff paused. “You finally convince that Martin girl to go out with you?”

Stiles shook his head quickly, that clench turning to a vice grip around his heart, his stomach starting to churn with nerves. “No dad, Lydia and I are just friends now.” He shifted awkwardly. “You, erm, don’t know them.” He couldn’t do it. He knew his dad would love him no matter what, he’d basically told him that already, but Stiles’ throat had suddenly closed up and the pronoun just wouldn’t make it past his oesophagus.

“So what’s their name?”

Stiles gulped the lump down. “Alex,” he replied, so grateful in that moment for the unisex name.

The Sheriff observed him for a moment then smiled again. “Well, I hope you have a great time son. Where are you taking this Alex?”

“Oh, we were just going to see a movie, maybe grab some dinner afterwards.” Stiles bit his lip. He desperately wanted to get out of there, his fight or flight reflex most definitely in flight mode right now, but he knew his dad would find it suspicious if he just ran off.

“That sounds nice,” his dad replied. “Well, you know-“

 

The doorbell rung.

 

Stiles’ stomach dropped.

 

The Sheriff looked at him before standing up and slipping around him to go answer. Stiles was frozen in place. He had told Alex they’d meet at the movie theatre just so he could avoid this situation. He finally managed to get his feet to move just as his dad was swinging open the front door. There, on the doorstep, was Alex holding a huge bunch of flowers and a polite smile on his face. Stiles could have died in that moment. He felt his cheeks flare, his heart thudding in his chest faster, louder, so dramatically he wondered briefly if everyone could hear it.

“You must be Alex,” his dad didn’t miss a beat. Stiles’ eyes shot over to his father who was giving the boy his classic Sheriff look, but there was no shock or discomfort there. His dad looked over at him and Stiles saw a small smile on his lips before he looked back at the boy holding the flowers and frowned again. “So I hear you’ll be going out with my son.”

Alex nodded. “That’s right Sir. We met the other day at Lydia Martin’s party and I asked him on a date the next day.”

His dad was still eyeing him in that Sheriff way and Stiles almost felt bad for the boy. “Stiles,” his dad didn’t look away from Alex. “How about you take those flowers and find somewhere to put them.”

Silently, swallowing hard on his dry throat, Stiles approached the boy and took the flowers from his hand and quickly left to place them on the counter in the kitchen. He knew this was his dad’s time to question the boy, and he was kind of grateful for the excuse to leave them to it - he needed a second to regroup. Stiles looked at the flowers again and grimaced. He wasn’t sure he liked that, the boy bringing him flowers like he was taking charge of this thing. It felt lopsided in a way that made Stiles kind of uncomfortable. But he shouldn’t take it out on the boy, he probably thought he was being really kind. And he was acting very respectful towards his dad. Maybe Alex had misremembered what they’d agreed on and turned up at the house thinking that was the plan all along? Stiles let out a breath and shook himself. He was just nervous. He needed to stop overthinking things and just enjoy this.

 

When he made his way back into the hall he saw Alex still had that polite smile on his face and his dad looked a little more relaxed, his hand now no longer hovering anywhere near his gun that was hung up beside the door. Stiles made a point to smile at the boy as he approached after he realised somewhere in the back of his mind that technically he still hadn’t actually done that. Alex smiled back. “Are you ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded. When he glanced at his dad, he saw a look there and turned back to Alex. “I’ll meet you in the car,” he told him. Alex said goodbye to the Sheriff then made his way back down the steps to his shiny BMW. Stiles turned back to his dad. He was shocked when he was suddenly pulled into a strong hug.

“I love you son, no matter what.”

Tears prickled in Stiles’ eyes as he hugged his dad back just as hard. When they let go he nodded. “Thanks dad,” he whispered.

The Sheriff cleared his throat. “Go on, go have fun,” he said gruffly. “I made it very clear to be back by ten though, we still have a curfew in place!” He called and Stiles waved in acknowledgement before getting into Alex’s car.

 

 

The movie they saw was some comedy that Alex suggested. Stiles had kind of wanted to see the latest Marvel release, but he didn’t think Alex was really into that and he didn’t want to seem immature or uncool to him so he kept his mouth shut. The comedy had been funny enough, and Alex had reached over and taken his hand halfway through which was cute and something Stiles was definitely into. When the movie was over, they agreed to get something to eat. Stiles had been thinking just some curly fries and a milkshake, but Alex took them to a little hipster pizza joint downtown that he’d never even seen before. Again, he felt strangely uncomfortable but he pushed it aside because, honestly, how many dates had Stiles actually been on? What did he know about how it all felt. And, this was his first time out with a guy, so maybe it was to be expected that he’d feel a little strange. Alex was being nothing but nice. He kept the conversation going the whole time, asking Stiles questions about his family and his future dreams and it was all pleasant and easy and by the end of it Stiles thought he’d feel that fluttering in his stomach that came when he liked someone. But when Alex drove him back home and they parked in the driveway, Stiles didn’t feel it. Alex leant in for a kiss and he let it happen. It was a good kiss, just like the ones they shared at the party, but he still felt a kind of unease in his stomach that just wouldn’t go away. Smiling and thanking the boy for paying for their meal - another thing Stiles wasn’t sure he liked - he got out the car and quickly made his way inside.

 

“So how was it?” His dad asked after he muted the TV.

Stiles forced a smile. “It was good,” he lied. “I’m pretty spent though dad, I think I’ll head up to bed.”

“Sure,” his dad nodded. “Did you eat something?” He asked.

“Yeah, got pizza after the movie.”

“Okay, sleep good Stiles.”

Stiles patted his dad’s shoulder as he passed and strode up the stairs two at a time. He was being ridiculous. Nothing had gone wrong with the date, and anyone on the outside looking in would have thought it was actually really successful. They got on well, even though Alex was a very different person to him. In fact, he kind of reminded Stiles of Jackson a bit. Maybe that was it - he was just giving off Jackson vibes and that’s why Stiles’ stomach was turning. That had to be it.

 

Glad he’d managed to work out what it probably was, Stiles stripped off his clothes and pulled on his favourite joggers and rummaged around in his backpack for his batman t-shirt he hadn’t seen since getting back from the Seattle trip. Giving up when it wasn’t in there, he opened one of his drawers and found another one of his go-to sleep shirts and slipped that on instead. When he settled down in his desk chair and opened his laptop, he let his head fall and rest against the edge of his desk. He wondered if Alex would want to go out again. If he asked, Stiles would say yes. The more he thought over the date, the more he realised he was being irrational. Everything went really well, exactly how a first date was supposed to go, he assumed. He decided he was putting too much pressure on this, and left it at that.

 

 

He had a strange nightmare that night. Stiles could tell he it wasn’t real because he couldn’t smell or feel Derek in front of him. It was like the man was made of stone, completely cold and still, no expression on his face. Stiles didn’t like it. He had to turn away from the man, had to step back so it wasn’t as obvious that this wasn’t Derek but something else in his form. Stiles saw something, or someone, approaching and he squinted to get a better look. The blonde hair was familiar but he couldn’t place it. The boy was smiling, wide and open and his teeth were flashing and his eyes were so blue, so dark, that Stiles couldn’t look away. Suddenly the boy pulled out a knife, held it in one hand and lifted it above his head and threw it with a flick of his wrist. The knife sailed through the air and Stiles moved to duck out of the way but it wasn’t heading for him. By the time he realised, it was too late. The knife was embedded in Derek’s chest, right into his heart. This version of Derek paused, and then like a spell had worn off he started to warm, his face suddenly full of colour and life and his eyes narrowed in pain, staring directly at Stiles as he fell slowly to his knees. Stiles rushed to the man, but when he got to him Derek was already lying on the ground with blood pooled around his body. Stiles fell to the body, running his hands all over to try and find any sign of life. But he was still. Stiles pushed the body over and his hands found Derek’s face, pulling it around towards him but Derek’s eyes were dead and cold, glassy, unfocused, like his spirit was gone.

 

Stiles gasped awake and he immediately felt a presence in the room. He instinctually reached for his bat underneath his bed, hand clasping around the wooden handle and pulling it free. But as he blindly swung, a hand caught his wrist and held it still. Stiles wanted to scream, opened his mouth to do it, but another hand covered it before he could. He fought against the hold, kicking with his legs and twisting away from the other person violently.

“Stiles! Stiles, shh, it’s me.”

He recognised Derek’s voice and he froze. The Alpha had his red eyes on, glowing faintly in the dark as they watched Stiles carefully. The human sagged against his grip and Derek cautiously released him, somehow slipping the bat out of his hand and placing it quietly back on the floor by the bed. Stiles didn’t really know what he was doing as he suddenly found himself launching forward and wrapping his arms around the Alpha, burying his face in his neck and breathing in that familiar smell deeply. Derek was still at first, shocked at the action, but then his arms circled around Stiles and pulled the boy closer so he was almost in his lap. They sat like that for a few minutes, neither saying anything, just breathing and listening and soaking it in.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s skin and the wolf’s chest rumbled. It was strange how comforting the sound was, and Stiles was able to pull away after a few more seconds, taking one last deep breath of pine before shuffling back on the bed. When he flicked the bedside lamp on, Stiles realised Derek’s eyes were back to normal and his brows were furrowed deeply. “What are you doing here?” Stiles asked quietly, realising all of a sudden that there could be a threat and he’d just been throwing himself at the Alpha when really they should have been preparing for a fight.

“I heard your heart rate go up and you were thrashing around so I came to wake you up.”

Stiles had to think through his foggy brain for a minute to realise Derek didn’t mean he’d heard it all the way from his loft, as that would be impossible even for a werewolf. “You were outside my house?”

Derek nodded stiffly but didn’t give an explanation until Stiles prompted it. The wolf huffed. “I was checking to make sure you were safe,” he finally said.

Stiles bit his lip and looked down at his hands. Instead of making fun of the Alpha, like he normally would, he whispered, “thanks”.

“Until we can kill this thing, you should stay at the loft.”

Stiles shook his head. “I can’t, my dad would notice and I don’t think he’d accept another Lydia’s lake house excuse.”

“Then I’ll stay here,” Derek replied finally, his tone firm and Stiles couldn’t bring himself to argue. In that moment he couldn’t actually think of a single point against the idea.

 

Silently Stiles stared at the floor while he felt Derek watching him. He fiddled with his hands, clasping and unclasping his fingers and pulling at the digits awkwardly until he couldn’t bare it anymore and stood up, wandering over to his bookshelf and letting his eyes scan over the titles without really taking any in. He heard Derek move, but he didn’t look over. That twisting was back in his stomach and he could feel everything tighten like a rubber band, stretched thin and close to snapping except it just kept pulling and clenching and he felt like he was going to be sick. But then Derek’s hand was sliding over his shoulder and down his arm, clasping gently around his wrist and encouraging him back to the bed. He followed without resistance, letting the Alpha push him down on the mattress and quietly pull the covers aside so he could slide in next to him. Stiles pushed one of his pillows over and Derek positioned it so he could rest his head down. He then, unexpectedly, slid an arm across the bed and under Stiles’ pillow, the other coming over to splay his hand on Stiles’ chest, pulling their bodies close and resting his face inches from the back of Stiles’ neck. His breath tickled the hair there, every huff warm and comforting and Stiles could feel his breathing steady and his eyes flutter close, the near panic attack fading quickly into calmness.

 

“Hey Derek?” He mumbled, already feeling sleep coming back over him.

Derek hummed, the vibrations going through both their bodies.

“Why do you do this?”

“Do what?”

Stiles, slowly and sleepily, lifted his own hand to run his fingers down Derek’s arm that was wrapped around him. “Keep coming back?” From the silence that stretched out, Stiles assumed he wouldn’t get an answer from the wolf, so he shuffled into his pillow more and started to let sleep take him. As he felt his brain shut down, he could have sworn he heard Derek say something, but it was whispered and he only caught one word so he just let it go and fell into unconsciousness.

 

 

Derek heard Stiles’ question and his heart thudded, ached from the force of it, and his wolf howled inside of him to pull the boy around and show him why he kept coming back, why he could never stay away. Why he would always push him away but never far enough, never so he wasn’t within reaching distance still. Derek squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips, fighting everything inside him. It quietened as he felt Stiles go slack in his arms, the boy falling asleep before he could get an answer.

 

“Because you’re everything,” Derek whispered into the pillow, wanting, _needing_ , to let it out, breathe the truth into the open _just this once_ , the tension inside of him releasing slowly as he did. Finally, once his wolf had stilled, placated by the warm body in his arms, he used Stiles’ heartbeat to focus and calm him enough to follow the boy into sleep.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, I know it’s been a while, sorry everyone! But I went back and edited this so it felt better to me. I’ve always wanted to write a (kinda) coming out scene between Stiles and his dad so that was fun. I’ve never imagined it being a big thing for the Sheriff so that’s how I wrote it :) Hope you all enjoyed, let me know your thoughts etc
> 
> Also, for anyone interested, I am still active on tumblr and reblog funny stuff so you can go and follow me if you want >>> siriuslymcfly.tumblr.com


	13. Chapter 13

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles still couldn’t get ahold of Deaton. The man was like a ghost. In fact, no, he wasn’t, because Stiles could actually see those and he hadn’t seen Deaton in over a month. Scott had told him the man returned to the animal clinic that week, yet every time Stiles went over, Deaton was mysteriously not there. He definitely was avoiding him. And Stiles had no idea why. He had tried to research the ritual he would need to do for the knife himself, but he hadn’t found anything he trusted. He could have asked Derek, and he’d been close to doing so on a few of the nights they were laying in his bed together, but every time something in him stopped the words coming out. Maybe he just kept getting distracted by the fact he had _Derek Hale_ in his bed. Which would be understandable, since the man was basically a Greek god and _he_ was the one who had suggested the whole bed sharing thing. There were a couple of awkward mornings now where Stiles had woken up from a particularly pleasant dream a little too excited and he’d had to leave the room before Derek could realise what the problem was. He knew it was wishful thinking to believe the Alpha hadn’t sniffed it on him, but Derek didn’t bring it up so he liked to convince himself his secret was safe.

 

 

Monday morning brought the start of school again after Spring break. Stiles groaned loudly as Derek shook him gently, coaxing him up with the smell of a coffee wafting around the room from the mug he was holding just out of Stiles’ reach. Derek smirked when Stiles blindly grabbed for it again and he pulled it away until finally the boy just gave up and dragged himself out of bed. He had been expecting Derek to hand him the delicious nectar as soon as he was upright, but the wolf walked out of the room still holding the mug.

“Hey!” Stiles called, indignant that he’d put all that effort in only for his reward to be snatched away.

“You can have it once you’re showered and dressed,” Derek shot back, smirking again in a way that had Stiles’ heart thudding quicker. He glared at the Alpha, but, knowing he wasn’t going to win this one, Stiles huffed and pulled out the nearest clothes to him and made his way to the bathroom.

 

Derek hadn’t been lying about the coffee once Stiles was ready, thank god. He grabbed at it greedily and sipped with an exaggerated sound just to see Derek scrunch up his nose in that way he always did when Stiles did something particularly irritating. Stiles sat down at the kitchen table where a bowl of cereal was already waiting for him. Clearly Derek had just poured the milk, as none of the corn flakes were soggy and Stiles had to smile up at the man. Derek sat down opposite him with his own bowl and they ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, until Stiles felt the urge to talk again.

“You know, I haven’t seen my batman T-shirt since we got back from Seattle.”

“Hmm,” was all Derek said.

“Do you think I left it in the hotel?” Stiles ate another mouthful of cereal and pointed his spoon at Derek. “It was one of my favourites. If we did leave it there then you better call that fancy hotel and have them send it because I am never going to find one like that again.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “It’s a batman T-shirt, you can find it at basically any Walmart.”

“No, it’s _my_ batman T-shirt, and it was so soft and worn out and I am never going to find one with that perfect amount of-“

“Rattiness?” Derek cut in.

Stiles huffed. “You can hate on it all you like Sourwolf, but I better find it again or else you’re going back to the store in Florida where my Aunt and Uncle got it for me.”

Derek stood and picked up both his and Stiles’ empty bowls and rinsed them in the sink. “I’ll look back at the loft incase it got mixed in with my stuff,” he conceded. “It’s already 8, you should get going,” he added after checking the clock by the back door.

“Are you just going to hide out in my room all day?”

“No Stiles, I still have a life.”

“Okay then I’m going to have to lock the door after you,” Stiles pointed out, jangling his keys in front of Derek to make his point. The wolf rolled his eyes and snatched the keys out of Stiles’ hand before he could pull them back. “Hey!” Stiles exclaimed. Derek fiddled with them quickly, then handed half the keychain back with a perfect raised eyebrow look.

“I’ll lock up, just come by my house after school to pick me up.”

Stiles bit his lip then nodded, taking the Jeep’s key that Derek had removed from the keychain and picking his backpack off the floor. He said goodbye to the Alpha, who was now washing their dishes in a way that was far too domestic for Stiles to handle, so he quickly left the house and hopped in his Jeep before he could start getting any funny ideas about him and Derek having a morning routine together and every other crazy thought that was about to run through his head.

 

 

He didn’t have any classes with the pack until after lunch, so the first time he saw any of them was after the bell rung, signalling the end of fourth period. Stiles caught sight of Isaac and Erica who were just leaving the social studies room and he held his hand up to catch their attention. It meant he didn’t see the person who had just walked in front of him to get to their own locker, and he ploughed right into them in his haste. He heard the thud of a bag falling to the ground and he managed to catch himself before he too hit the floor. He recognised the girl he had managed to knock. Her long auburn hair was unmistakable, and she looked up at him with dark eyes.

“Wow I’m so sorry,” Stiles gushed, helping the girl back to her feet. “I have got to stop doing that,” he joked as he scratched his face awkwardly.

The girl, Selena, laughed, the sound unusually clear in the loud corridor. “It must just be fate,” she replied. There was something about her that seemed off to Stiles, and he remembered why he was so quick to assume she was one of the ghosts he was supposedly able to see. She just seemed _strange_.

“I don’t really see you much around school,” Stiles commented, trying to not make it sound like he was fishing.

“Maybe you’re not looking hard enough.” The girl flicked her hair over her shoulder and smiled, all her muscles working to pull her mouth up and wrinkle her eyes but her pupils were flat, inexpressive. She didn’t look happy at all.

Stiles gulped. “Well, that is like me, super unobservant, you can ask anyone.” He could hear himself starting to ramble so he took a step back and picked up his backpack again. “Look, sorry again about,” he gestured to the floor, “you know. I’ve, er, gotta make a call so I’ll see you around!” Turning quickly, Stiles made his way through the crowd of people, trying his hardest to stay at a walk and not draw attention to himself.

 

Stiles had to calm his breathing and slow his heart before he could enter the cafeteria and sit down with the pack. He didn’t want to panic them, especially when he was probably just reading way too much into it. Selena was most likely a normal girl who he just happened to keep shoving to the ground accidentally. Nothing to get the pack worked up about. It was probably something he should work on though. Being that unobservant definitely wasn’t a good trait to have when you practically attracted danger. When he was calm again, Stiles entered the room and made his way over to their normal table. He sat himself down beside Allison and she smiled warmly.

 

“Jesus Stiles, have you been rolling around in Derek’s dirty laundry?” Jackson, who had just walked in with Boyd, sat down opposite him and smirked.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Stiles glared at the boy, but posed the question to the whole table.

“Well,” Scott rubbed his neck. “You just really smell like him, that’s all,” he whispered, shooting a cautious look over to the nearest table, but their peers were too engaged in their own lives to be listening in.

“I wish you lot would keep your noses to yourselves sometimes,” Stiles mumbled to himself then sighed. “Derek has been staying at mine until we can fix this whole threat issue, since I can’t just go stay at the loft without my dad noticing.”

“I wondered why we hadn’t seen him in days,” Boyd mused.

“Yeah, I was starting to get worried our Alpha had abandoned us in our time of need,” Erica added, a glint in her eye that Stiles liked to ignore whenever it appeared.

“Stop exaggerating,” Stiles rolled his eyes. “You guys know you’re always welcome to come round to mine if you want to see your precious Alpha.” He shook his head at them. “This’ll be over soon, then I’ll give him back to you.”

“Will you though?” Erica asked, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively and Stiles gave her a withering look.

“Yeah, I don’t really fancy having a grumpy werewolf camping out in my room for the rest of my high school experience, thanks.”

She snorted and returned his grin, and the pack moved on to another topic, leaving Stiles feeling mildly sad at the prospect of having to give Derek up once all this was over.

 

 

Stiles pulled up slowly to the side of the old Hale house, which, now, looked more like a brand new house. Somehow Derek had managed to keep up with the renovation through all the Empusa drama, and the house was starting to look like an actual, liveable, dwelling again. This time around, Derek had opted to go for a more modern look, keeping the original design of the porch at the front and pillars holding it up, but above the front door were three huge glass windows that stretched all the way to the roof, giving a good view of the winding staircase inside and the vaulted ceilings. Either side were triangular gables that jutted out, with their own large windows embedded on both the ground and first floors. Stiles could tell the place would be bigger than the original house, and it was going to have a lot more light than the farmhouse Derek had grown up in. The exterior still needed to be painted, and Stiles could tell some windows were yet to be put in and there was a whole bunch of underfloor heating that was waiting to be installed, but he was just in shock at how much had been done. He jumped out of the Jeep when he saw Derek walk out the front door.

 

“Dude, this place looks amazing!” Stiles called as he jogged over. He saw Derek’s lips twitch into an almost smile before he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t call me dude,” he corrected, but Stiles already wasn’t listening. He was too busy trying to sneak looks inside.

“How did you manage to get this much done? I was only here a few weeks ago?”

Derek shrugged. “I’ve been helping the builders out with what I can. This,” he gestured to the outside of the house, “the building is the easiest part, the electrical and plumbing stuff will take longer.”

Stiles stared up at the building and couldn’t help but smile in awe. It really was going to be amazing, definitely better for the pack than the loft was at the moment.

“Do you want a tour?”

Stiles blinked at Derek for a second before nodding quickly. The wolf had looked hesitant at first, but once Stiles grinned, he unfolded his arms and lead the way into the house.

 

Derek showed him where everything was going to be as they walked around the interior. It definitely looked more like a building site still inside, but with Derek pointing out the features, Stiles was able to imagine the finished product. The whole ground floor was going to be as open planned as possible. The front hall had the staircase winding up to a landing that overlooked everything, and it had three open exists coming off in different directions. One lead to a dining room, the other to the sitting room, and the one directly in front of them lead to the kitchen. Derek showed him what he had planned for each of the rooms, the way he would set up the appliances in the kitchen and how he would have a clean, airy feel to each space. At the back of the house was almost a full wall of french doors that slid open and lead to a huge covered patio and the backyard. Stiles asked if Derek was planning on having landscaping done, to which he shrugged.

“I think it would look nice,” Stiles mused, looking out at the overgrown grass and the trees in the distance. There had clearly once been a garden there, but everything was so wild it would take more than just an amateur like him to tackle it. Otherwise, he would have offered his services. His mum had been really into her garden, and even though his house didn’t have much of a backyard, she’d always been out there mowing and pruning and caring for the flowers and vegetables she grew. Stiles had helped her sometimes. It had been nice, relaxing even for a hyperactive child like him, to sit with the smell of earth on his fingers and the feel of the grass between his toes as he stared in curiosity as his mum found a worm and held it up for him to observe. Stiles hadn’t even realised he had been retelling that story to Derek until he finished and looked over at the wolf. Derek had a soft expression on his face, his mouth curving into a smile and his body relaxed, resting against one of the exposed beams of the wall. Stiles’ cheeks heated and he looked down at his shoes.

“We can have a garden,” Derek said plainly. Stiles’ heart squeezed and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from saying anything inappropriate. He knew that Derek meant we as in the pack, not him and Stiles. But it had Stiles’ head spinning at the thought of them, together, in this house. Of _his_ garden out there, growing the plants his mum had taught him about and Derek lounging on the patio watching him, the pack all around them, just happy to be together. He shook himself. Where the hell had that come from? Stiles looked away from the backyard. He definitely had to control himself, he couldn’t let any of that come out in front of Derek. The wolf would probably laugh in his face at the sheer patheticness of Stiles’ imagination.

 

Derek lead him upstairs after that, and pointed out which room would belong to who. It surprised Stiles to realise Derek had planned out a bedroom for each member of the pack. He’d designated a room for each of the couples on one end of the hall, and the opposite end had four more rooms. The first door on the left would be an office, with space for three huge bookshelves and a wide corner desk that had a floor to ceiling window beside it to overlook the backyard. There were then three bedrooms. The one right at the end was Derek’s master bedroom. The Alpha led Stiles inside, and he could vaguely see where the furniture he knew Derek owned would go. The room also had its own walk in closet and an en-suite. The bathroom obviously had no fittings yet, and the basic plumbing that had been set out was all exposed, but on the far side was a long counter that had already been built. In it sat two holes for ‘his and her’ sinks. Stiles smirked at Derek.

“Are you planning something Sourwolf? Have you got a secret girlfriend we don’t know about?” He was joking, but the idea that Derek was planning his room for a future relationship had Stiles’ heart sinking and a bad feeling settling in his stomach.

“Having one sink in that space would just look strange,” Derek replied, his tone flat and Stiles quirked an eyebrow at him. The wolf seemed to take a deep breath, and the stoniness left his eyes. “Come on,” he nodded his head, leading them back out to the hall.

 

The room to the right of Derek’s was going to be Isaac’s. It was a decent space, bigger than the one Isaac had at the loft and definitely something he’d like, especially with the view over the forest outside. Derek then paused at the last bedroom. He shifted awkwardly and huffed before looking directly at Stiles. “This could be yours, if you want. I know you’ll be going away to college but you should have a space too if you want to come back. If you don’t, that’s fine, I’ll make it a guest room...”

Stiles was too shocked to say anything. He just stared into the empty space. _His_ space. Something Derek had thought about for _him_. He suddenly felt tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. He had always felt like he wasn’t fully part of the pack - just their human tagalong who did research for them and little else. But this, the fact he was being given a room in the new pack house, that was Derek’s way of showing he really was a member, an important part of their group. Before he could stop it, the salty tears started slipping out, running down his cheeks slowly. Stiles wiped them away harshly, hoping Derek wouldn’t see. But of course the wolf could tell.

“What? What’s wrong?” Derek’s voice was panicked.

“Nothing,” Stiles sniffed, still not looking at the wolf.

“You don’t have to have a room,” Derek amended, as if Stiles was somehow upset by the gesture and not about to bawl his eyes out over the feeling of _acceptance_ that was coursing through him in that moment. “I know you don’t want to be tied down here. I’ll just make it a guest room. Forget I even said-“

Stiles shook his head so sharply, so violently, that it made him feel dizzy for a second. He reached out and grabbed Derek’s arm on instinct, cutting the wolf off. Derek just stared at him. He looked pained. Stiles squeezed his arm tightly, trying to convey as much of what he was feeling through their fixed gaze. “I want it,” he whispered fiercely. They stood like that for another second, both staring directly at each other, Stiles’ cheeks tear stained and Derek’s eyes wide and expressive for once until finally Stiles let go and stepped back, gazing into the room again.

“Okay,” Derek conceded, and they left it at that.

 

 

They had been careful every night after that first one not to get too close while they slept in Stiles’ bed. When one rolled over or shifted, the other adjusted so their position could only be considered platonic bed sharing, nothing more. That night was different, and even Stiles couldn’t deny what they were doing was outright cuddling. He was the little spoon, his back pressed up against Derek’s chest and the man’s arms wrapped around him securely, his face buried in his neck and their breathing matched - steady, no nerves, just relaxed and slow, in sync. He wasn’t quite sure how they had got here, but he wasn’t about to move any time soon. Derek was warm and smelled like sleep and the forest and, Stiles felt dumb even thinking it, but he smelled familiar and like _home_. He would have thought their closeness would be making him uncomfortable, but Stiles could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness, his mind having to fight the sleep trying to take him so he could enjoy their position for just a little longer, just a few more minutes. He could feel Derek doing the same thing, the wolf sniffing every now and then at his hair then tightening his arms and drifting off again. They didn’t say a word to each other. Eventually, Stiles couldn’t keep himself awake any longer, and he had to give in to what his brain was begging for. He slowly, sleepily, felt his hand search for Derek’s under the covers, and when his fingers brushed the other man’s, they intertwined. Derek squeezed. Stiles squeezed back. In that moment, he felt so peaceful he sighed contently and felt a smile creep onto his face as he fell asleep.

 

 

Stiles woke up alone the next morning. He didn’t realise how disappointing it would be until he rolled over and felt the cold space beside him. He sat up and blinked groggily, the light streaming through his blinds which he must have forgotten to close last night. Derek was nowhere to be seen. He had obviously woken up, realised what they had been doing all night, and left before he would have to address it. And Stiles knew they would have had to. He could ignore all the other moments they let stuff between them go, but a cuddle session like that would need at least some clearing up to be done. He had to tell the wolf he wasn’t trying to come onto him, that he wasn’t trying to make him feel guilty with his tears. That was clearly the only reason Derek had behaved the way he had. Only, it was now going to be this awkward thing between them as the Alpha refused to even stick around to talk about it. Stiles swung his legs out of bed and moodily grabbed his clothes to change into. He didn’t even bother showering, just pulled the jeans and T-shirt on and grabbed the books he’d need for the day, shoving them in his backpack and blindly pulling a plaid shirt off its hanger and throwing it on. He stomped down the stairs, his steps exaggerated and probably a bit ridiculous, but he didn’t care, he never claimed _not_ to be a drama queen. Besides, it was making him feel better.

 

Stiles faltered when he walked into the kitchen and Derek was there at the stove, sausages and bacon sizzling, filling the room with the delicious aroma. The wolf turned and he smiled, like actually genuinely smiled and Stiles kind of wanted to check if the man was possessed. He could only stare. Derek plated the food, and placed it on the table at Stiles’ seat, a mug of coffee already there and his Adderall beside it with a small glass of water. Stiles kept looking between it and the Alpha, obviously a confused look on his face as Derek shifted awkwardly.

“You forgot to take it yesterday,” he explained.

“I thought you’d left.” It was all Stiles could get out, his mind still stuck on that point.

“What?”

“I-“ Stiles bit his lip. “Doesn’t matter.” He sat down at the table and his stomach rumbled at the sight of the food. Derek had even made his toast underdone, just how Stiles liked it. He swallowed the lump in his throat and took his pills automatically. “Thanks,” he mumbled. Derek nodded as he sat down opposite him with just some cereal. “You’re not having any of this?” Stiles gestured to his plate of cooked food.

Derek shook his head. “No, I prefer a lighter breakfast.”

Stiles looked back down at his food and realised Derek had then made this only for him. His stomach fluttered, and it had nothing to do with the rumble it then growled out. He took a bite and sighed happily. He had to admit, this was a pretty good way to wake up, even if Derek hadn’t been beside him in bed.

“Is it okay?” The wolf asked after a minute.

Stiles nodded and grinned around the food in his mouth. “You did good Sourwolf,” he mumbled, then swallowed. “If you wanted to do this every morning, I wouldn’t complain.”

Derek rolled his eyes, but he did smile down at his bowl as he continued to eat his cereal.

“So,” Stiles started, putting his fork down and grabbing his coffee. “Cuddling. That was a thing.”

Derek choked on his food. As he sat there spluttering, he glared at Stiles.

“What?” Stiles held his hands up in defence. “I just wanted to clear the air, you know?”

Derek took a few more seconds to recover. After gulping down his glass of water, he finally looked back up again. “What are you talking about Stiles?”

Stiles rubbed his neck. “Well, I don’t want you to think I’m, like, trying to be needy or something.”

Derek was still staring at him, confused.

Stiles huffed. “I don’t want you to think you have to cuddle to make me feel better or whatever.”

 

Realisation dawned on Derek’s face, and he looked back down at his glass, gripping it tightly, so tight Stiles wondered if the thing would crack. Derek then let go and looked back up at him. “What if I said I wanted to?”

It was Stiles’ turn to stare silently shocked. He had no idea what to do with that. This man, this beautiful specimen in front of him, the one who had constantly proved time and again that he was not particularly fond of Stiles on the best of days, was telling him that he wanted to cuddle. Stiles was not ashamed to admit it took him at least a minute to wrap his mind around that thought. “Okay,” he said, finally.

“Okay?” Derek questioned.

“Yeah,” Stiles nodded his head, picking his now cold coffee up again and sipping it.

Derek watched him, mapping his expression, looking for something, then settling on his eyes again, contentment visible on his face. “Your shirt completely clashes with that T-shirt,” he pointed out.

Stiles snorted, looking down at his outfit and realising what Derek was talking about. “Alright Mr I Wear The Same Jeans And Jacket Combination Everyday, what do you suggest?” Stiles challenged, lifting an eyebrow.

Derek, who had just stood up to put their finished dishes in the sink, looked Stiles up and down then smirked himself. “Give me two minutes.” And then he left the room. Stiles wasn’t sure what was happening, but he could have sworn this almost counted as flirting.

 

When Derek returned, he was holding a plain light grey Henley with a different flannel shirt. He held the two out for Stiles to take, the smirk still on his face. Stiles eyed the clothes up suspiciously. He had forgotten he even owned that Henley, always pushing it aside for stuff he was more familiar with. But he took them from Derek and stood up. Derek waited patiently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, and Stiles realised the wolf was expecting him to just change right there. For some reason, Stiles suddenly felt nervous. He had changed in front of Derek before, it wasn’t a big deal. So why was his heart suddenly racing as he took off his shirt andpulled his T-shirt over his head. He didn’t meet Derek’s eyes as he did, instead turning so his back was facing him and quickly putting the new clothes on. He bit his lip as he turned back around, holding his arms wide for Derek to appraise it. The wolf was eyeing him with an unreadable expression, his arms a little tighter against his chest, but he nodded his approval.

“That’s how you pair an outfit,” the Alpha teased, smirking again and dropping his arms to his sides, a lot more relaxed than he was a minute ago. Stiles let out the breath he had been holding, his heart calming down finally. He had no idea why that situation had just been so charged, but he wanted to brush it off, forget it had even happened.

 

 

“Damnit!” Stiles cursed loudly, twisting the Jeep keys again and hearing the engine turn over, cutting out each time before it could fully start up. He saw Derek come out the front door to see why he hadn’t left for school yet, a dish towel thrown over his shoulder in a housewife cross chef kind of way that Stiles probably would have admired and then made fun of if he hadn’t been so angry at the situation right now. “I’m going to be so late,” he muttered as he tried the engine again. Still nothing. He threw his hands up in frustration and swung the door open, slamming it loudly after he got out and glared at the car.

“What’s wrong?” Derek asked, making his way over.

“I don’t know,” Stiles huffed. “It won’t start and if I don’t leave soon I’m going to be late for school.”

 

Derek stopped by the hood of the Jeep and popped it open, propping it up on the strut and leaning in to have a look. “Do you have a light?” He called, and Stiles quickly slipped his phone out his pocket, turning on the torch feature and positioning it where Derek wanted. The Alpha prodded around for a minute, then nodded to himself and stepped back. “Do you have a wrench?”

“Yeah, hang on.” Stiles ran back into the house, rummaged around in the place where his dad kept all the tools, then hurried back out once he’d found what he was looking for. He handed Derek the wrench and repositioned the phone so it was lighting the engine again. Derek leant back over and started fiddling with things, using the wrench where it was needed and doing stuff that Stiles didn’t really understand. Finally, he pulled back again and wiped his hands on the dish towel.

“That should work for now. Try it again.”

 

When Stiles turned the key, the engine spluttered to life. He grinned. “You’re a life saver,” he called to Derek. The wolf made his way over and leaned against the open window.

“That fix won’t last long.”

Stiles sighed. “I can’t afford to get it repaired right now.”

Derek seemed to be thinking, a frown creasing his forehead until he settled on something and nodded to himself. “Wait here.” He then strode inside, and was back out again a few seconds later, hands washed and jacket on. He locked the front door behind himself then got into the Jeep on the passenger side. Stiles frowned at him. “Drive to school,” Derek ordered. When Stiles raised his eyebrows at the tone, he sighed. “I’ll take the car to the shop while you’re in class, and I’ll pick you up when it’s done.”

“Didn’t you just hear me say I can’t afford it?”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it Stiles, I’m sure it’s just a spare part. I’ll cover it.” He sat back in his seat. “Didn’t you say you’re going to be late?”

Stiles huffed, but, checking his phone, he realised Derek was right. They could finish this argument later, right now he had to drive as fast as he legally could if he wanted to make it to Chemistry on time and not have Harris pull him up in front of the whole class.

 

 

Derek arrived at school that afternoon in his Camaro instead of the Jeep. Stiles was walking out with Isaac and Lydia when the black car pulled up right outside the front steps. Isaac frowned in confusion. “I told him I was getting a ride with Boyd,” he said, checking his phone, probably to see if the text had actually gone through.

Stiles patted his arm. “He’s here for me, don’t worry.”

Lydia made a noise beside him, and when Stiles looked over she shot him a curious look that basically meant he had to fill her in or else she would get it out of him another way.

“The Jeep is in the shop, so I needed a ride. It’s no big deal Lyds.”

“Uh huh,” she said in her skeptical voice, a smile forming and a look in her eye that Stiles chose to ignore.

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Stiles decided it was in his best interest to leave at that moment. He didn’t want to know what Lydia was going to say next, so he waved to his friends and quickly dashed down the remaining stairs, making his way around the Camaro and pulling open the passenger door. He slid into the car as gracefully as he could muster. He still managed to bash his head on the doorframe, to which Derek smirked, but the wolf pulled out of the parking lot without a comment.

“So where’s my Jeep?” Stiles asked.

“They had to order the part in, so I left it there. It should be ready tomorrow though.”

Stiles hummed, nodding at Derek’s answer. “You don’t have to pay for it,” he tried, but Derek only glared over at him, so Stiles held up his hands and let the topic go. He already knew he would make Lydia take him to the shop tomorrow to pick up the Jeep so he could pay before Derek had the chance to. Smiling at that idea, Stiles turned the radio on and flipped it to the irritating pop station he knew Derek hated. He sang along, loudly, to every song that came on, just to see how long Derek would last. The Alpha mock glared at him at every new song, but he didn’t reach over and turn the thing off, so Stiles rolled the window down and kept going, grinning as he did so. As he stared out at the blurring trees, filling his lungs with the fresh air rushing past them, he missed the smile Derek had playing at his lips as he watched him.

 

 

So Stiles’ plan didn’t turn out quite how he expected. He managed to persuade Lydia to take him to the garage after school (even though she was very much against the idea) and had told Derek he would be getting a ride with her so they could work on a group project they had actually already finished - the perks of getting paired up with the smartest person in the school. When they pulled into the parking lot for the garage, Stiles spotted his Jeep already outside waiting for him. Grinning, he jumped out the car and made his way inside, Lydia following behind, her heels clicking on the hard ground, drawing all the leering eyes of the mechanics to her. She ignored them and Stiles threw his best intimidating glare their way, but he was pretty sure it didn’t have the same affect as when Derek would do it.

 

The stocky man at the counter raised his eyebrows at them when they approached. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I’m here to pay for the repairs on the Jeep out there,” Stiles jerked his head towards the door.

The man bent down and retrieved a tattered binder which he flicked through with his grease stained fingers until he reached the page he was looking for. “Licence plate 6QGM387?”

Stiles nodded, already pulling his wallet out and eyeing the cash he’d taken out of his savings he had stashed away in his room. It was only a couple of hundred, but he hoped it would cover the part Derek had them replace.

The man closed the binder. “Okay kid, you’re all set, I just need to go get your keys.”

“Wait, what do you mean?” Stiles asked. “Don’t I need to pay you?”

“No, that fella that brought it in paid upfront.” The man turned and left the room, heading out back to find the keys.

Stiles growled, shoving his wallet back in his pocket. “Damnit Derek,” he muttered. The stupid Alpha had outsmarted him. Maybe if he asked the mechanic how much it was, he could give Derek the money directly.

 

When the mechanic returned, Stiles took the keys from him and signed the form he handed over. As he passed it back, he asked, “so how much did it come to? The spare part?”

The man looked up at him and shook his head with a furrowed brow. “Kid, that car needed more than a spare part. We had to practically rebuild the engine. Work like that normally takes over a week, but that friend of yours was pretty insistent we have it done by today. He paid a pretty penny for it too.”

Stiles winced. “Do I want to know how much?”

The guy shrugged. “The engine on its own was probably around $3000. I won’t tell you how much he paid for the labour.”

Stiles would have felt shocked at it all, if he wasn’t feeling so embarrassed in that moment. He thanked the guy quickly and left the garage with his head down. Lydia had been quiet the whole time, but as they approached the Jeep, she pulled him to a stop.

“Stiles, what’s wrong?” She asked.

“I-“ Stiles paused, not sure what he even could say. “I don’t know Lyds, I just feel so bad. The guy dropped that much money on my Jeep like it was his own, and I don’t know how I’m going to repay him! I feel like an idiot.”

Lydia folded her arms. “Look, I’m sure he wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t know what it was going to cost and he wasn’t okay with that.” She gave him a pointed look. “And I know Derek, he’s not going to want you to repay him.”

Stiles threw up his arms. “I can’t just let him spend that kind of money on me!” He huffed. “A few weeks ago we weren’t even friends. Why did he do this?”

Lydia rolled her eyes. “Stiles, you know why. You two need to have a real conversation before it drives the rest of us mad.”

“About what?” Stiles knew he was denying, he knew exactly what that feeling was of pushing something so far to the back of his mind that he could just pretend it didn’t exist. But he still couldn’t admit to himself the thing that might be true, the thing he so desperately wanted to be true. It was just impossible.

Lydia sighed, uncrossed her arms, and took out her own keys. “I’m not going to grace that with an answer. I’ll see you tomorrow Stiles.”

 

 

When Stiles got home, his dad was already back, which meant Derek was nowhere to be seen, and dinner was some leftover frozen lasagne. He grabbed a plate of the food, told his dad he was going to do some homework, and headed upstairs. Stiles was only in his room for two minutes before Derek was knocking on the window. He braced himself, knowing the Alpha was probably pissed he had lied to him. But, as he slid open the window and stepped back to let Derek in, he saw there was no scowl on his face. He actually looked pretty calm, almost pleased with himself. It made Stiles want to growl at him. The Alpha sat himself down on the bed and raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t give me that look!” Stiles warned, pointing a finger at Derek. “You know exactly what you did and we need to talk about it.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “Stiles, you need a working car. So I had it fixed. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal?!” Stiles exclaimed. “I’m sorry but I think $3000 is a big deal.”

Derek shrugged. “Well I don’t. Not when it comes to pack.”

“No,” Stiles pointed his finger again. “You don’t get to use the pack excuse, not this time.” He stepped forward and crossed his arms, really trying hard to look authoritative, like he means business.

Derek sighed. “Stiles, I have the money, I wanted to help. Now you have a Jeep that actually works and you can rely on it. What is the problem?”

Stiles rubbed his face in frustration. “But _why_? Why do you want to help? Why are you being nice to me and cuddling and making me breakfast and spending obscene amounts of money on me?”

“Do you not want me to?”

Stiles groaned, throwing his arms up. “You are the most frustrating person I have ever met, do you know that?”

Derek frowned, his face falling as he sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together tightly. He seemed to be wrestling with something, something big. The Alpha then stood up, and the intensity in his eyes had Stiles backing up a few steps as he approached. Derek paused. He ran a hand through his hair, then huffed. “Would you just accept that I have my reasons? Just take my word for it and let it be?” Derek shook his head and chuckled humourlessly. “Of course not, who am I talking to,” he muttered. “Stiles,” Derek looked at him, his eyes pleading. “For once, let it go.”

It went against everything in Stiles, he could actually feel his mind wanting to fight against those words, but the look Derek was giving him was hard to resist. He looked desperate, like he was close to grabbing him and actually pleading, out loud, like a real, emotional being. Stiles had no idea what could get the Alpha in that kind of state, but he knew he’d have to do what he said. “Fine,” he mumbled. “I’ll let it go, for now,” he added. “I’m not going to let you get away with this forever though Sourwolf.”

Derek straightened up, crossed his arms, and nodded. “I know.” He gave him a wry smile, like he knew Stiles better than anyone else in the world, and Stiles kind of believed it.

“Okay, I have homework to do. Wanna use that History degree you never got to help me out?” Stiles wasn’t sure if that was pushing it, but from the eye roll he received and the tension leaving the Alpha’s shoulders, he knew he’d said the right thing.

 

They settled down at his desk and got to work on his half written History essay, Derek pointing out parts that could do with embellishing and correcting certain facts he’d got wrong, their shoulders brushing every time he pointed at the screen and Stiles just leant into it. He knew there was something Derek wasn’t telling him, something that had caused this change and he knew he wouldn’t be able to let it go for long, but he would try and ignore it for now. He just hoped it wasn’t something that was going to ruin this friendship they had going on. He wasn’t sure what he would do if things just went back to the way they were.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, a completely Sterek filled chapter with a lot of fluff, just because you all deserve it for being so nice and patient with me. We’re quickly catching up to the end of the content I’ve pre-written for this story, which is why updates are slowing down. But, I’m super excited to be writing the chapters I’m doing now ;) and I’m already planning ahead for what story no. 2 in this verse will be!
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed, and again thank you to each and every one of you who have shown an interest in this!


	14. Chapter 14

 

* * *

 

 

“I’ve found a witch.”

 

Stiles was surprised those were the first words he heard after entering the loft on Saturday morning. He and Derek had made their way from his house sneakily while his dad was still in bed, Stiles leaving a note explaining he would be hanging out with Scott the whole day, and they both jumped in his Jeep together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Derek even let them stop at the fast food place on the way so they could grab breakfast.

 

It was Isaac who had uttered the words. He looked up from the book he’d been hunched over, a proud smile spreading across his face and excitement in his blue eyes. Stiles dropped his bag by the door and dashed over, Derek following behind at a calmer pace after putting the two bags of food on the kitchen counter. They both looked over Isaac’s shoulder at the address book he had been working through. It was towards the end, and the contact was only a name of a coven and a phone number.

“The Verpreux coven?” Derek asked.

Isaac scrambled through the loose paper he had strewn around him until he found one with his messy handwriting scrawled at the top. “Yeah,” he nodded, handing the paper over to his Alpha. “I managed to get ahold of them, and at first they weren’t interested. The head witch, er, High Priestess,” Isaac corrected himself, “Solène, told me they don’t get into business with wolves.”

“So how did you manage to persuade her?” Stiles asked.

“I didn’t.”

“Well great,” Stiles muttered, already leaning back and ready to walk away. He still had a biscuit to eat and he was pretty sure Derek wouldn’t notice if he stole a sip of his milkshake. Because yes, the big bad Alpha had ordered a strawberry shake for breakfast.

“But then someone called me back.” He looked pretty smug, and Stiles rolled his eyes at him.

“Stop being so dramatic Isaac and tell us,” he mock scolded.

“The girl was from that coven. Turns out, she’s heard of you,” he looked directly at Stiles.

“Me?”

Isaac nodded. “Yup. Looks like word has got out that a Seer is part of our pack. She seemed pretty eager to meet you, and even agreed to help us with our spell if it meant she could come here.”

Stiles rested his forearms on the table and put his head in his hands. He had no idea why this girl would want to meet him when he didn’t even know anything about his whole Seer powers thing. What was she expecting to get out of it?

 

Derek had been inspecting the paper Isaac had handed him with the girl’s contact information, his brow furrowed, but he started to glare when Isaac mentioned Stiles. He grumbled lowly. “I will need to talk to this witch. I’m not having a stranger come onto our lands, especially if she has intentions for Stiles.”

Stiles looked up. “Wait, you think she wants to do something to me?” He groaned. “Why am I always the one being targeted? I’m not that special, can’t they all just go find another scrawny human to pick on?”

“I- we won’t let anything happen to you,” Derek told him firmly. Stiles didn’t miss his mistake, but he let it go, a tingle in his gut growing as he eyed up the wolf. Derek was doing his protective glare - the one where he looked like he was ready to pounce at anyone who looked at him the wrong way. Stiles placed a comforting hand on his arm. “I know Sourwolf, no need to go all big scary Alpha just yet.”

Derek seemed to resent the words Stiles had said, but did relax a little after Stiles patted his arm a few times. He finally uncrossed them and leant back over Isaac’s shoulder. “Did you get a name for this witch?” He asked.

“Yeah, her name is Danielle. She left her number too. She guessed you’d want to talk to her before she headed out here.” Isaac indicated to the paper Derek had put back on the table. Stiles eyed it quickly and realised the area code was one he didn’t recognise.

“Where is this coven actually based?”

 

Derek stood straight again, picking the paper up and slipping it into his pocket. He then made his way back over to the kitchen and started to go through the fast food bags of now cold breakfast. “The Verpreux coven is down in Louisiana, just outside of New Orleans. Their High Priestess is the third generation of Verpreux women to lead them in the States.” He made his way back over and handed Isaac the sandwich they’d picked up for him. The boy took it happily, despite its now soggy texture, and wolfed it down in three bites. Stiles was so used to the behaviour now from all the wolves that he didn’t even blink. Instead, he was unashamedly eyeing up the milkshake Derek was sipping on. The Alpha seemed to realise where his eyes were lingering, and he smirked. Taking an exaggerated slurp, he raised his eyebrows at Stiles. “If you wanted a milkshake, you should have ordered one.”

Stiles sighed. “I know, but it didn’t sound good until I saw you drinking it.” He didn’t realise how inappropriate that sounded until the words left his mouth and his face heated up, but Stiles didn’t take back what he’d said. Derek kept looking at him over the large plastic cup until finally, with an exaggerated sigh and a roll of his eyes, he handed the cup over.

“Here, you can finish it.”

Stiles took the milkshake with a grin, and didn’t miss the look Isaac was shooting him. Instead of justifying himself to the beta, he just stuck the straw in his mouth and sipped on the delicious fake strawberry flavour. Derek cleared his throat.

“I’m going to call this witch. Isaac, keep the others updated on what’s going on. We should probably let Allison know too so she can warn the Argents that there could be a witch entering the territory at some point.”

Isaac nodded along with what Derek was saying and jumped up as soon as he was done, making his way over to the couch where his phone was on charge. Stiles watched him settle down and begin the group message he knew the boy was composing with a small smile on his face. Isaac was always so ready to help, and Stiles secretly knew Derek gave him tasks to remind Isaac how much trust the Alpha had in him. It was sweet, though Derek would never admit out loud that’s what he was doing.

“So Sourwolf,” Stiles leant back against the table and took another long sip. “What should I do?”

Derek raised an eyebrow at him. “Just try to stay out of trouble, think you can do that until I’m done with this call?”

Stiles couldn’t help but pull a face at the wolf. “I think I’ll manage,” he sighed dramatically.

“Good, I’ll be back down soon.”

 

 

Stiles found himself on the other couch opposite Isaac, flipping through the TV channels on mute so he didn’t interrupt the conversion the other boy was having. It sounded like he was on the phone with Allison, who was probably hanging out with Lydia and Jackson, so Isaac was filling them all in at once to save time. Stiles sighed and threw the remote to the side. There was nothing good on and he was bored. Actually, he was itching to head over to the vet clinic to see if he could harass Deaton, but he knew Derek would be mad if he went off alone. So he pulled his phone out instead, fully intending on trying to beat his high score in Temple Run, when he saw he had a text. Stiles clicked on it, and realised it was from Alex. All it said was ‘hey, how are you?’, so Stiles sent a quick, generic, ‘good, you?’ and went back to his game.

 

Alex’s reply came through almost instantly though. Stiles sighed again and just quit the game, realising he clearly wasn’t even going to get through one level. He opened the reply and did a double take. Alex wanted to hang out, that night. He’d even half invited himself over since his parents would be home and he hadn’t exactly come out to them yet. Stiles understood, at least that aspect of it, but his dad also wouldn’t really be home since he’d likely be in bed by 9 and that would leave them alone together, in a practically empty house. Stiles wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. Why was he being so weird about this though? A cute boy, who actually liked him, wanted to spend time with him. Was that really all that bad? He was overthinking this, big time. Alex most likely just wanted to hang out. They were kind of half dating, so shouldn’t this be normal? Making up his mind, Stiles texted the okay and gave Alex a time to head over. He locked his phone and closed his eyes for a second to regroup, but when he reopened them Isaac was staring at him in concern.

 

“You okay Stiles? Your heart rate just spiked.”

“Yeah,” Stiles mentally shook himself and put a smile on his face. “Alex is coming over to mine later. I guess I’m still a little nervous around him.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

“No, not like that,” Stiles quickly amended. “He’s not a threat, don’t worry.” He saw Isaac relax slightly. “It’s just,” Stiles rubbed the back of his neck. “This is my first, ya know, relationship, so I don’t wanna mess it up.”

Isaac’s eyes softened in understanding. “Well, I don’t know a whole lot about that, but I think if you like him and he likes you, everything should come pretty naturally.”

Stiles sighed with a smile. “Yeah, you’re right,” he nodded. “Also, I like how your advice made you sound like a wise old woman.”

Isaac snorted and leant back in his seat. “Maybe that’s why I like scarves so much,” he mused and Stiles burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he fell across the couch, his guffaws loud and uncontrollable. Isaac couldn’t help but join in, and by the time Derek made his way back down, both boys had tears in their eyes and their bodies ached from laughing.

 

Finally the two calmed enough to right themselves and wipe their eyes.

“I don’t even want to know.” Derek declared before Stiles could explain, sitting himself down in his chair after grabbing the remote from beside Stiles. He switched the TV back on again and changed it to the news for background noise, which Stiles had noticed Derek often liked to do when the whole pack wasn’t in the loft. He’d found himself wondering if it was a way to fill the space, so there was always sound like Derek had grown up with - an imitation of a large pack. Stiles assumed so.“The witch will be here next weekend,” Derek informed them.

“Cool, where are we meeting her?” Stiles asked after finally catching his breath. “I’m assuming we’re not bringing her here.”

“No,” Derek shook his head. “We’ll be meeting by the old bridge, on the Hale lands. It’s close enough to town that the Argents can be involved if they want to but still in our territory.”

Stiles nodded, impressed at Derek’s thoughtfulness to it. He then realised it was probably something his parents had done on countless occasions. It might even be their designated meeting spot for outsiders and Derek was just following in their footsteps. For some reason, it had Stiles smiling at the Alpha softly, and he was glad Derek was too busy saying something else to Isaac to notice.

 

When he tuned back in, the wolves were done with the details and Isaac was already back on the phone, letting the rest of the pack know. Derek turned back to Stiles, and seemed to know the boy hadn’t really been listening to anything he’d said. Derek sighed, did his best sour expression, then rolled his eyes when Stiles just grinned innocently.

“How close are you to getting that silver knife?” Derek asked him.

Stiles sighed. “I think we’ve found one that will work, but it’s going to take a few days to get here. Allison’s dad is ordering it through his supplier, but even they have to source it from a specific person.”

“Why can’t we just order one online?” Isaac asked after putting his phone down.

Stiles wanted to laugh, but he knew the boy’s question was genuine, so he just smiled. “I can’t just order one off Etsy. Most silver knives out there are Stirling silver, not pure silver, so they wouldn’t work. And I don’t really want the FBI coming down on me for my purchasing history. I think one too many orders of knives and weird cult books would definitely flag a system somewhere.”

“So Argent can get us the knife by the time the witch is here?” Derek kept on topic.

Stiles nodded. “Yes, he’ll have it.”

“And Deaton can help with the ritual?”

Again, Stiles nodded. “He’s avoiding me but I’ll get him to help as soon as the knife arrives. Even if Scott has to pin him down.”

Isaac snorted. It was pretty unlikely even Scott could keep Deaton down if he didn’t want to be somewhere, but Stiles was running out of options. If the man wouldn’t help them, he’d have to find someone else. He loathed to admit it, but Enoch probably knew the blood ritual that would need to be done for the knife. If worst came to the worst, Stiles would have to text the vampire. It was absolutely something he wanted to avoid though. He didn’t want anything to do with the guy ever again honestly. And he knew Derek felt the same way.

 

“Okay,” Derek leaned back. “Then everything is set. If the witch can help us, then we will do the hunt next week.” He seemed more confident now, resolved and calm in their plan now all the moving parts were coming together. Stiles felt better too knowing they could be rid of this thing by next week. No more people would have to die, and his nightmares might finally end. That reminded him - he should probably let Derek know not to head over to his that evening for their nightly routine since Alex would be over. Otherwise that could get kind of awkward. He wasn’t sure how he would explain a grown man appearing at his bedroom window looking like a serial killer to his (kind of) boyfriend.

“Hey Sourwolf,” Stiles started casually, trying to keep his tone light and the apprehension he had been feeling earlier out of his voice. Derek looked over at him and quirked an eyebrow. “Just a heads up, you probably don’t want to come over later, my er- Alex is going to be over for dinner and stuff and I’m not sure how late he’s staying so...” Stiles trailed off and Derek’s face remained stony. He wasn’t sure if the Alpha was angry or just thinking hard about what he’d said, but all he got out of the wolf was a tight nod after a few seconds of silence. “Okay then,” Stiles awkwardly clapped his hands together. “I better head home to get the place at least semi presentable and to warn my dad we’ll have to order in tonight.” He untangled his limbs and stood quickly. “Glad we got a plan together and all that, let me know if anything changes or if, ya know, all hell breaks loose.” When he received little response from Derek, he looked to Isaac for confirmation and his friend just nodded sympathetically and gave him a well intentioned thumbs up that was probably supposed to be encouraging but came across a little unsure. But Stiles smiled in thanks at the wolf and quickly left the awkwardness in the loft before it started to make him cringe internally. He wasn’t sure what he’d said, but obviously something had been misinterpreted or whatever. Honestly though, as soon as Stiles got down to his Jeep, his mind was back on his evening plans and what it would be like to hang out with Alex again and the weird atmosphere he’d left behind was pushed right back into the far crevices of his mind.

 

 

His dad seemed pretty supportive at the idea of Alex coming over for dinner, and even agreed to drive to get them take out from the local Italian place that Stiles loved. The support ended though at the idea of helping clean the house. The Sheriff just raised his eyebrows at Stiles and claimed, “it’s your mess son, you’re home more than I am,” and that was it. He’d sat himself down in his armchair and just watched as Stiles dashed around the house collecting every item of clothing and belongings he’d spread all over into one big laundry hamper and shoving it all in the utility room out back and out of sight. As he then started to clean the best he could, he’d get distracted by other tasks when he’d notice a dusty shelf or a spare shoe in the wrong place. All in all, the whole process took twice as long as it probably should have if it had been done by a non-ADHD individual, but he managed it. And the house did look pretty good once he finally collapsed into the couch. He thanked whatever gods were out there that Derek had reminded him to take his Adderall again that morning, otherwise he was sure he would have been distracted too much by the weird items he found in corners of rooms and under the furniture. Sometimes he’d end up reading half a book if he found one tucked away somewhere that he’d forgotten they owned.

 

His dad just watched him with a smile on his face. When Stiles mock glared at him, the Sheriff laughed. “Your mum used to run around the house just like that,” he commented.

Stiles swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. “Really?” He asked. He only had an image of his mum calm and collected when guests would come over, he definitely couldn’t remember any kind of mad rush beforehand to get the house ready.

His dad nodded. “Oh yeah,” he smiled again. “She would insist on doing it all because I always put things in the wrong place and then she’d glare at me just like you did when she got done because I hadn’t helped enough. She’d tell you I’d promised to play with you in the backyard, as her way of getting back at me.” His dad shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong, playing with you wasn’t a punishment, but boy did you have a lot of energy. She knew we’d be out there for hours playing whatever game you’d come up with that day.” The Sheriff seemed to get lost in his memories for a second, a soft smile still on his lips and his eyes distant, as if reliving those long afternoons so many years ago. Stiles smiled too. It had taken so long for them to be able to talk about his mum like this, even now it was sometimes hard, but when his dad would open up freely with memories from their past it always had that familiar warmth spreading through his body.

“She’d do that to get me out of the house,” Stiles added after a minute of silence.

His dad laughed. “That’s true. Plus, if I tired you out enough, you’d be more likely to sit through all of dinner with the guests.”

Stiles grinned. “I never went to bed early though.”

“No matter how hard we tried,” his dad added, giving him a look which just had Stiles grinning wider.

“Adult conversations were always so much more interesting.”

“Stiles, you were seven.”

“And?” Stiles shrugged, sharing his dad’s laugh, his head falling back against the couch and his eyes closing. He had completely forgotten about what was supposed to be happening that evening until his phone suddenly buzzed and it brought him back to the present. “Alex will be here at six,” he announced, the nerves back and making his stomach churn.

“Ask him what he wants from the Italian place and I can go pick it up when he arrives.”

Stiles nodded, texted the question along with a link to the menu, and then sighed. “Okay, I’m going to shower and get ready and stuff.” He stood and looked around them, making sure he hadn’t missed any areas of the room. When he passed his dad on his way to the stairs, he gave him a pat on the shoulder and his dad caught his arm and squeezed it gently, comfortingly, in a way that calmed some of the churning and eased Stiles’ racing mind.

“Thanks dad,” he whispered and the Sheriff just nodded in understanding, nothing more needing to be said between them.

 

 

Dinner went surprisingly smoothly. Alex was charming, even managing to get the Sheriff on his side by the end of the meal as they ganged up against Stiles on who was going to win March Madness this year. Stiles always liked to go with an outsider, an underdog team, and his dad and Alex were certain Duke would clinch the title yet again. He finally admitted defeat by the time all their plates were clear, sighing loudly when his dad beamed over at him. He’d always liked winning. Alex had even offered to clear the dishes. It was just a pleasant meal overall and Stiles was starting to wonder what he’d been so worried about. It was like he’d just had a friend round, except the friend was hot and Stiles had to not think about how he definitely had imagined him naked. That was probably considered inappropriate dinner thoughts, especially with his dad sitting less than 10ft away.

 

The two boys headed up to Stiles’ room after the table was cleared, his dad, stifling a yawn, issuing a warning about the ‘door open’ policy which Stiles cringed at and quickened his pace up the stairs. The apprehension only came back when they were finally alone together, up in his room which he’d tried to tidy as best he could. He’d hidden as many of the supernatural related books as he could in his closet, just to avoid any questions, but he still had a pile of them in the corner next to his desk. He could see Alex running his eyes over the room, taking in the book shelves and the worn out Star Wars posters on his wall, gaze finally landing on his bed and a glint appearing in his eyes.

“How likely is it that your dad comes up and checks on us?” Alex asked, voice a little husky as he smirked at Stiles.

Stiles bit his lip. “Not very likely, he’s probably fallen asleep on the couch already,” he replied. Taking that as his cue, Alex pushed the bedroom door closed and stalked forward, wrapping his arm around Stiles’ neck and pulling him close, smashing their mouths together forcefully. Stiles was shocked, but let it happen, opening up to the kiss slowly. It was rushed and pushy and dominating as Alex pulled Stiles closer and guided them back towards the bed. Stiles had his hands on Alex’s waist which he gripped to as Alex nudged them back against the mattress, Stiles falling backwards and the other boy landing on top of him. He was kissing back, actually starting to enjoy the feeling when suddenly Alex’s hand started running up his thigh, finding its way under his shirt and caressing the skin by his hip, above the waist of his jeans. Stiles tensed up. He wasn’t ready for this. Feeling the sudden hesitation, Alex pulled away and moved his lips to Stiles’ neck, sucking hard, much too hard, on the hollow beside his shoulder. Stiles jerked away, pulling his skin free and feeling a stinging there. He looked up at an almost frantic looking Alex and pushed himself further up the bed, away from the other boy.

“Woah Alex, let’s, er, let’s chill out a bit,” Stiles stuttered, catching his breath and desperately wanting to wipe his mouth but his hands were still pinned down at his sides by the other boy’s body.

“Why?” Alex asked. “I played my role downstairs, now it’s time for you to do yours.” He tried to lean in again but Stiles quickly turned his head away. He wriggled enough to get his hands free, and when the other boy tried to pull his face around for another kiss, Stiles gave him a hard shove.

“I told you, I don’t want to do this,” Stiles said firmly, sitting more upright on the bed. Alex tried one more time to lean in again, his hand dangerously close to Stiles’ groin and that was it. He was not going to put up with this. Stiles gave the other boy another push, glaring up at him as he managed to squeeze past him and stand up. He knew if the boy tried to come at him again, he’d punch him square in the jaw, just like Allison had taught him.

But all Alex did was straighten up and glare harshly. “So you’re not even going to put out? After I took you on that date and came all the way over here this evening?”

Stiles frowned at the boy. “I never said that’s what I wanted.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, you’re ridiculous. Why the hell would I do all that and not want anything in return?”

Stiles felt like a knife had been shoved right into his gut. And yeah, he actually knew what that felt like. He really had thought this boy liked him, wanted to spend time with him. He looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling heat rise up onto his cheeks, embarrassment filling his whole body. He heard Alex snort.

“Wait, did you, like, think this was a _relationship_?” The blonde boy laughed coldly. “Dude, what world do you live in? Have you never done something like this before?” He shook his head. “I’m not here for a boyfriend, okay? If you’re not down for this, then you need to tell me.”

Stiles shuddered, finally looking up and giving the boy his best indifferent look. “I think you should leave,” he said firmly, sounding a lot more assertive than he was actually feeling. Alex gave him an incredulous look, then rolled his eyes again.

“Whatever dude, it’s your loss.” He turned and left the room, and a few minutes later Stiles heard his car start up in the drive and the engine rumbled as he headed off down the street.

 

Stiles felt himself slide down beside his bed, landing on the floor and pulling his knees up against his chest. He had his head in his hands, and he couldn’t help but let a sob escape his lips. How could he have been so stupid? He actually believed that the boy had been a kind of boyfriend. Was he really that naive? Stiles let another sob out, biting his lip to stop it getting too loud and alerting his dad. He wondered if Alex had said something to him as he left, but going by the fact his dad wasn’t up there right now asking what happened, he assumed he was still asleep on the couch. God, he was so mad at himself for being that stupid. Why would a guy like that even want to date someone like him? He had no experience in _that_ department, especially not with another guy. He scrubbed at his eyes angrily. What was wrong with him? Was he just that unappealing? The only person to really show interest in him just wanted to use him for his own pleasure, had zero interest in being around him without a kind of reward or payback.

 

Stiles wasn’t sure how long he sat like that, quietly crying until no more tears would come, leaving his cheeks feeling tight and stained and his eyes dry and stinging. He rubbed them again, tiredly. He was exhausted, but as he looked up at his bed behind him, he knew he didn’t want to be there. Stiles knew the exact place he wanted to be right now, and the only person he wanted to be with. He felt himself pick his body up off the floor and grab his hoodie, pulling it on and looking at himself in his mirror. Alex had left a huge hickie right on his neck, just high enough to not be covered by the neckline of his T-shirt or the hoodie. He looked away, not wanting to see it anymore. He left the room slowly and quietly, creeping out onto the landing and seeing his dad’s bedroom door was closed. He’d obviously gone to bed, not worried that Stiles’ own bedroom door was also shut, since Alex’s car was gone. He had probably assumed Stiles was asleep, and hadn’t wanted to wake him to ask how it went. He was glad. All he wanted to do was get to the loft.

 

 

He drove too quickly, a little recklessly, but he wasn’t pulled over and he made it to the loft in one piece. When he arrived, he hovered at the door for a brief second, then knocked. Derek pulled it open after a minute, looking disheveled from sleep, his hair messed up for once and his eyes half closed. When he saw Stiles standing there, his expression turned stoic, eyes narrowing at the bruise on his neck before he looked up at Stiles’ face and froze. He could obviously see the signs of his crying, the red eyes and puffy skin, and he was suddenly very awake. Derek’s eyes shifted to bright, Alpha red.

“What happened?” He asked, voice controlled, barely, as he remained frozen in place.

Stiles sniffed. “I-“ He wasn’t really sure what to say. “It was terrible,” he finally choked out, looking away from Derek and suddenly he was in the Alpha’s chest, the man’s strong arms pulling him close and folding around him so comfortingly, so completely opposite to what Stiles had felt earlier that night that he broke down, burying his face in Derek’s shoulder and gripping onto him like his life depended on it. He could feel Derek’s chest rumbling, could feel his nose in his hair and his fingers on his back but it was all warm and soft and gentle and felt like home. And god, Stiles could feel himself just collapsing in that hold, his own arms wrapped around the man and his hands clutching his loose T-shirt so tight he could have pulled holes in it, but he didn’t care. Derek was moving them into the loft, somehow closing the door behind them and leading them up the stairs without really breaking his hold which should have been impossible but Stiles really didn’t care in that moment.

 

It wasn’t until he heard another door click shut softly that he realised they were in Derek’s room. He looked around briefly through blurry eyes and saw Derek’s bed unmade, probably still warm from where he’d been sleeping. The wolf slowly, carefully, so gently like he might break Stiles, led him over to the bed and sat him down. Stiles expected him to start asking questions, to push him into talking about what had just happened, but Derek stood straight and headed over to his bathroom and Stiles honest to god let out a small whine like _he_ was the wolf, but he didn’t like the fact the man was leaving him, even for a few minutes. When Derek came back, he was holding a glass of water and he sat down beside him, handing it over and letting Stiles take a few sips before placing it on the bedside table. Stiles leant against him again, bodies now pressed together and he could finally feel his stomach unclenching. He closed his eyes.

“Can I stay here?” Stiles asked quietly, suddenly unsure what the answer would be. But instead of giving him a reply, Derek just wrapped an arm around his waist gently and pulled them down into the sheets, giving Stiles enough space to shuffle around and get comfortable, then curling up behind him with his nose pressed against Stiles’ shoulder. Derek huffed, blowing hot air on the nape of his neck.

“You smell like him,” the wolf muttered. He clearly was trying to not let it bother him, but Stiles knew Derek didn’t like it, didn’t like the smells that were caked onto him and honestly, Stiles didn't either. “Can you-“ Derek hesitated, unsure. His hand twitched where it was resting on Stiles’ waist, fist lightly clasping the fabric of Stiles’ clothes. Stiles didn’t need him to say any more. He sat up quickly, pulled the hoodie and T-shirt over his head in one motion, and started unbuttoning his jeans. He kicked those off too, so he was just left in his boxers, and threw all the clothes as far across the room as he could. It didn’t seem to be enough for Derek though, as he stood and slipped out of bed on the other side, grabbed the clothes, and threw them out onto the landing outside the room. When he closed the bedroom door again, he seemed more relaxed. Stiles watched him take a deep breath in, then nod to himself and come back over to the bed.

 

When he got back in this time, it was all skin on skin contact and Stiles could almost feel Derek’s scent starting to saturate his own, and it made him smile - a small, secret smile that only he would know about, only he would understand. What he didn’t know, was Derek had exactly the same look on his own face, his smile hidden against Stiles’ neck and his eyes closed as he breathed that familiar scent in and let it lull him to sleep.

 

 

Stiles woke up the next morning to six missed calls and two voicemails from his dad. He had rolled over in the huge bed and not felt Derek beside him, so he’d checked his phone incase anything was wrong. Clearly, according to his dad, there was. But Stiles chose to ignore that for now since Derek’s bed was the most comfortable thing he’d ever been on before, and the covers had the strongest scent of Derek that he’d smelled. It must be what the wolves got from everyone all the time. He shoved his face in Derek’s pillow and inhaled deeply. It was weird, he knew it was, and if Derek had walked in on that moment the wolf definitely would never let him in his room again, but Stiles didn’t care. It just smelled good. He sighed, rolling over again so he could slowly stand and stretch. Light was creeping in around Derek’s blackout curtains he had up on the window beside the bed, and when Stiles pulled them open more he realised how late in the morning it was. He yawned widely. Despite what had happened last night, that had been one of the best nights sleeps he’d had in, well, as long as he could remember. He looked around the room again, this time able to see more of it with the sunlight bouncing off the walls. He saw that photo again, the only personal thing really in the room, and he started to make his way over to it when he spotted something out of the corner of his eye. A T-shirt was half draped over a chair in the corner of the room, and it wouldn’t have been anything special except Stiles caught sight of that all too familiar long yellow oval and black batman symbol in the middle. He picked up the worn out grey shirt and realised what it was. His missing sleep shirt. Derek must have found it and forgotten to give it back. He fiddled with the familiar soft fabric and smiled, holding the T-shirt up to make sure it really was his. When he did so, he found himself sniffing it, wondering if Derek had washed it since it smelled so much like the wolf. In fact, the scent on there was as strong as Derek’s bedsheets. Stiles frowned. Had being in the room with Derek these couple of weeks really done that?

 

Before Stiles could think about it any more, he heard the bedroom door open and he jumped around, caught by surprise. Derek was there, holding a steaming mug of coffee in one hand and closing the door again with his other.

“Here,” he offered the coffee and Stiles accepted with a small smile. As he sipped, he held the T-shirt up with his other hand.

“Were you keeping this from me on purpose?” He joked. Derek just looked at him seriously, and Stiles knew what that meant. He sighed, sitting back down on the bed and looking down at his knees. He suddenly felt pretty exposed, so he pulled the shirt on to cover his chest at least.

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” he tried, but he knew it wasn’t really fair.

Derek sat down in the chair. “You don’t have to tell me everything,” Derek said surprisingly softly. “But I need an idea of what happened.”

“He was just an asshole. I probably over reacted coming here, I just didn’t want to be in my room.”

“Stiles,” Derek warned and the boy huffed.

“Fine, you want to know the truth?” He snapped angrily. “It was all a game. He didn’t like me, he just wanted to get laid. And when I wouldn’t put out, he had the nerve to try and force me.”

Derek let out an almost feral growl, pushing off the bed with his eyes flashing like he couldn’t help himself. Stiles flinched back, and it brought Derek’s eyes onto him. He could see the Alpha trying his hardest to keep it all under control. He started to pace, shaking his head every time his features threatened to shift. He looked over again, his fangs long as he panted heavily, clenching and unclenching his hands. Stiles could see his long nails were digging into his skin and drawing blood each time.

“Stiles,” Derek managed to get out passed his fangs. “Tell me he didn’t,” he growled, voice so low and dangerous Stiles wasn’t sure it was fully Derek who was addressing him.

He shook his head quickly. “I told him to leave.” He stood up, knowing this was going to go too far if he didn’t calm the wolf down. “Derek,” he said slowly. He approached the wolf, and Derek let him put his hands on his shoulders. “Derek, look at me.”

The wolf finally shifted his gaze back to Stiles, but his whole body was still vibrating, shuddering every few seconds as he tried his hardest to hold back the shift. Stiles ran his hands up across Derek’s shoulders and rested them either side of his neck.

“Hey, everything is okay,” he tried.

“I’m going to kill him,” Derek snarled.

“That’s not a good idea Derek, you know that. You’ve not got a great history with the law and I don’t think even my dad could get you off a real murder charge.”

Derek’s chest just rumbled again.

“Look, I’m fine. Alex-“

Derek’s teeth snapped at the name.

“Okay,” Stiles conceded, forcing Derek’s eyes back on him again with his hands on his face now. “ _He_ didn’t do anything, I stopped it. I pushed him away and told him to leave. Apart from a bruised ego, I’m okay.”

Again, another snarl as Derek suddenly ran a clawed finger across the bruise on Stiles’ neck that he’d forgotten about. Stiles shuddered.

“Okay, I know, not the only bruise. But that was the only thing he really did, I promise. And look,” Stiles wasn’t sure why he did it, but he ran a thumb along Derek’s lips, feather light, the pad brushing over one of the fangs but he kept going. “I didn’t want it to be him, I didn’t want _his_ lips on my skin,” he whispered.

Derek’s eyes were wide, red finally pulling back into the centre and leaving them their normal sea green again. He had frozen. Stiles kept his thumb running across his face, every brush bringing Derek further back to himself, his features shifting until he was fully human again. They were stood within inches of each other, Derek’s skin hot under Stiles’ touch as he went to pull away now the man was back.

 

Derek caught his hand and held it still, hovering by his cheek. “What did you mean?” Derek asked, voice barely above a whisper, cracking at the end. “ _His_...” He trailed off. He looked so unsure, so unguarded in that moment Stiles knew this could be the only opportunity he got. Screw it, if Derek hated him after this, at least he knew he tried.

“I wanted it to be you.”

Derek’s eyes flashed red again, and a small, helpless whimper escaped his lips that had Stiles confused.

“Stiles,” Derek breathed in a controlled voice - overly controlled, holding back. “I need you to be careful what you say next.”

Stiles wasn’t sure if he should pull away or push closer. He knew he probably should move his hands away from Derek’s skin, step back and get some space so he could think clearly but Derek was holding him close and he wasn’t sure what was going to happen next. Derek’s eyes were the only thing expressing, his whole posture stiff and restrained but his eyes looked pleading, and all Stiles _really_ wanted to do was give Derek whatever he wanted. “What do you want me to say?” Stiles murmured.

Derek let out a long, shuddering breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a second then finally releasing Stiles’ hand and taking a couple of steps back. “Nothing. I don’t want you to say anything you’ll regret, or to say it because of what happened last night.” He looked directly at him, expression back to firm, any hint of vulnerability gone.

Stiles sighed. “Okay,” he agreed. “Then I’ll wait.” He was certain about that, he knew it. He needed to tell Derek the truth, he couldn’t keep it in anymore and if Derek needed him to do that when Alex wasn’t hanging over them then fine.

 

Stiles rubbed his face, trying to shake off what had just happened so he could transition into the day. He needed a distraction, and Derek was still staring at him which was not helping. “Do you have any pants I can borrow? I can’t really go home like this and I don’t want to wear my ones.”

Derek nodded tightly. He rummaged around in his draws until he pulled out a pair of black sweatpants, handing them over to Stiles silently. As Stiles pulled them on, he heard his phone go off again. Sighing, he knew he probably had to face the music.

“Hi dad,” he answered, shooting Derek a look as he did.

“Stiles? Thank god, where the hell are you?” His dad’s voice was panicked.

“Dad, calm down, I’m okay. I just came over to see Isaac.”

“Stiles, I need you to come home, now!”

Stiles held the phone closer to his ear. This was definitely something more than just not being there when his dad woke up. “What’s going on?” His tone brought Derek over, who started to hover close by.

“I can’t explain over the phone, but I need you to come now. Don’t stop anywhere on your way, you need to come straight here.” His dad was using his Sheriff voice, which was never a good sign.

“Okay, I’m coming dad,” Stiles agreed, and he heard the click of the phone hanging up. Derek looked anxious. “There’s something wrong,” he told the wolf. “Can you come, incase it’s she-demon related?”

Derek nodded, already pulling on his shoes. Stiles did the same. He wished he’d had time to do something about his neck before he faced his dad, but he knew if he was in danger that it didn’t matter. Any awkward explanation could definitely wait until after he saved his life.

 

The two of them rushed out the house with a quick explanation to Isaac over their shoulders, Stiles promising to keep his friend informed when he knew more. Isaac would be on standby if they needed reinforcements at his house, and he knew the boy would already be contacting the rest of the pack.

 

They drove there in Stiles’ Jeep, though Derek was behind the wheel. Stiles was too anxious to concentrate on the road, too jittery without his Adderall and with the stress of what could be happening to his dad right now. He just kept playing over worst scenario after even worse scenario.If they had to face the empusa now, they would lose. End of story. No debate there. They were not prepared, and yet here Derek was, driving them to their inevitable doom just because Stiles had asked. In fact, Stiles was pretty sure Derek would have done it anyway, asking or not. He glanced over at the wolf again. Derek’s focus was on the road ahead of them but he did shift his gaze in Stiles’ direction when he felt eyes on him. He gave what was Derek’s best attempt at a comforting smile - it looked more like a grimace and it was completely forced, but Stiles appreciated it all the same. It stopped the incessant tapping of his fingers on the centre console at least.

 

 

Stiles’ heart dropped right out of his chest when they pulled onto his road and saw all the flashing blue and red lights outside his house. Stiles didn’t realise he had gripped Derek’s arm until they pulled up and Derek had to turn the ignition off. There were at least four patrol cars outside, and three officers stationed on the street. Crime scene tape had been put up around the side of the house, blocking anyone from going around to the back yard and the woods beyond. Stiles shakily got out the car, and as he did, two of the officers raised their guns at him. Stiles wasn’t sure what happened first - people were yelling at him and he was holding his hands up in surrender, ready to get down on the ground, and then Derek had stepped in front of him in a protective half-crouch, arms out so Stiles couldn’t step around him.

“Simmons! Davids! If you don’t lower your weapons right now, I’m putting you both on suspension!” His dad was shouting from the front door, striding down and glaring at his two deputies as they both hesitated then lowered their guns. Stiles wanted to weep at the sight, relief washing over him so strongly he found himself leaning against Derek’s back, his legs barely able to keep him standing. He thought he’d be identifying his dad’s body, he had been certain of it.

 

Derek had relaxed from his defensive position, but only so he could help keep Stiles up, one hand on his elbow to steady him.

“Derek, I’m going to need you to step away from my son.”

Stiles knew it took everything in Derek to let him go and step aside. Stiles wanted to keep him close, wanted to keep holding onto his arm for support, but he also wanted to know what the hell was going on. “What’s happened dad?”

The Sheriff shook his head. “I need to ask you that Stiles. Where have you been for the last twelve hours?”

“I told you, I went over to the loft to see Isaac,” Stiles replied, shifting his weight under the intense look his dad was giving him.

His dad glanced over at Derek and hummed knowingly. “And what time did you go?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t look at a clock,” Stiles said sarcastically.

“ _Stiles_.”

Stiles threw up his hands. “I don’t know, around 2am maybe? You can check the security cameras outside Derek’s building if you really want to know.”

“And you didn’t leave there until I called you, correct? You were there all night?” His dad pushed.

“Yes,” Stiles sighed in exasperation. “I went from here to there and nowhere else. Why are you asking me all this?”

The Sheriff wiped his face. “Because Alex Haywood has been murdered, and you’re the last person to have seen him alive.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah hah! Some plot! RIP Alex, you won’t be missed.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the lovely support I’m getting on this, and as always, I’d love to hear what you thought!


	15. Chapter 15

 

* * *

 

Derek had a lot of memories with the Beacon Hills Police Station, and not one of them was positive. Though, he assumed not many people associated the place with happy memories. It wasn’t exactly somewhere you wanted to end up. But for him, the building would never be anything but the place he was told his entire family was gone, and it had been his fault. Of course, the cops never knew that, but he had. He’d sat there, wrapped in some useless blanket like that would cushion the news, surrounded by strangers who just kept giving him sympathetic looks, waiting for Laura to arrive. And the whole time, all he’d been able to think about was where Kate was. Had she already skipped town? Or had she stuck around to revel in the aftermath of her actions. He’d wanted to get out of there, to go find the hunter and tear her to pieces for what she’d done, for tricking him like that. He’d wanted to go find a distant clearing and just _howl_. He’d hated himself in that moment, more that he thought he could ever hate anything. They were all dead, and it had been his _fault_.

 

But then a small boy had approached him, eyes wide and moles dotted around his face erratically like he’d flicked an ink pen at himself. Some of them could have been ink actually, now Derek thought about it. Stiles had come right up to him and pulled himself onto the chair beside him, unafraid of the older boy. Derek had barely paid him any attention, too focused on the rage building inside of him. But then the small boy had put his hand on his arm and the anger had dimmed into the background like some static noise, faded enough for Derek to focus on the brown eyes staring up at him. Even then, he’d been aware of how sharp those eyes were - how much they seemed to understand. Stiles had only been young, maybe nine or ten, but he’d looked at Derek like he understood every emotion that was surging through the sixteen year old and knew exactly what had caused them. Derek had been frozen in place, just watching the young boy watch him. He knew now why it was such a big deal, probably would have had an inkling then if he hadn’t been going through so much. Just Stiles’ touch had calmed him, had probably kept him from tearing out of there and hunting down every last Argent in town, which definitely would have got him killed.

 

Derek had only pulled away from the boy when the Sheriff appeared around the corner looking for him. He’d hauled Stiles away, telling him to stop escaping his office and bothering people, and Derek had felt the rage and the pain and the hatred flow through him again as soon as Stiles was out of reach. He’d almost doubled over with the force of it, found his eyes prickling and his stomach twisting harshly and then Laura had been there, her strong grip on his shoulder and her warm embrace enough to make it all subside again and Derek forgot about the small boy with the big eyes and calming touch.

 

 

Now Derek was pacing in the parking lot of the Station, wanting nothing more than to get inside and be with Stiles. He wanted to know what was going on, what they were asking him, why it was taking so long. The rest of the pack had turned up about an hour ago, and everyone was on edge as they waited for Stiles to be released. But they were all over by their cars, Boyd’s truck running so the radio was on quietly in the background and a few of them sat in the bed and talked between themselves. Derek was the only one who couldn’t keep still. He’d tried, but there was too much built up energy inside him. It felt like when Stiles was in hospital, all those months ago. Except this time, Derek had no self control left. Back then, he’d been able to keep his distance as much as possible, sending the pack to watch over Stiles and make sure he was getting better. Not now though. There was no chance he was going to leave Stiles now. In fact, he was pretty close to just storming in there and _taking_ Stiles.

 

He growled in frustration.

 

“You might want to calm down Derek, and maybe lose the supernatural glowing eyes,” Lydia pointed out plainly, coming to stand beside him.

Derek huffed at the girl, but he did focus himself enough to calm the shifting. He searched for that heartbeat, and when he heard it was steady, he sighed. Stiles was okay, he just had to wait.

“He’s going to be fine, everyone knows he didn’t kill that guy.” She folded her arms as she said it, her tone certain, reminding him so strongly of Laura in that moment.

“It was the Empusa,” Derek growled.

“Yes, but it doesn’t match her usual pattern. This one is so obvious. Why would she pick a residential area instead of the woods?” Lydia posed the question to not only Derek, but Allison and Scott, who had made their way over to them and were now standing opposite, blocking Derek’s view to the Station. He shifted slightly so he could see the door again. It didn’t really make a difference, he’d hear Stiles move closer before he even saw the doors open, but it still made him feel better.

“Maybe this was a message?” Allison suggested. “We know the Empusa has targeted Stiles specifically before, so maybe she’s doing it again?”

It was a good suggestion, though it was a thought Derek had had already. He knew it had to be to do with Stiles, it was the only thing that explained why she would do something so risky. Killing a boy outside the Sheriff’s house was as conspicuous as you could get, so she clearly had a reason for it.

 

Derek tuned out the discussion that had started around him when he heard Stiles’ heartbeat spike. It wasn’t frightened though, he seemed to be getting up and moving around. Derek focused in on it, and he could hear the faintest conversation between the boy and the Sheriff, and then a couple of deputies who interrupted. Derek was already starting towards the doors before Stiles had reached them, the rest of the pack following quickly behind him when they realised what was going on. Stiles and his dad made their way outside and Derek could see the exhaustion on Stiles’ face, but he still cracked a smile for everyone like he hadn’t just been arrested for murder. One by one, every member of the pack pulled Stiles into a hug, each of them rubbing their faces on his neck subtly, making him smell like pack again. Derek wanted to do the same, wanted to make Stiles smell only of him, but he had to hold himself back. He was proud of his betas though, they’d come a long way from when they’d all first joined the pack.

 

Stiles seemed to sag a little when all the greetings were over with, his eyes blinking slowly as he tried to keep his focus on his dad as he explained they wouldn’t be able to go back to the house for at least a few days. Derek could see the boy was fading, so when the Sheriff finally agreed to staying at Scott’s instead of a motel, Derek worked his way over to Stiles and let the boy lean on him as they made their way over to the Sheriff’s cruiser. The man gave them a look when he realised Stiles was practically plastered to Derek’s side, but he didn’t say anything.

“We’ll meet you back at mine!” Scott called as he and Allison got into her car. Stiles waved haphazardly in his direction, almost taking Derek’s eye out as he so, then slid into the passenger seat of his dad’s car, finally letting go of Derek’s arm.

“Thanks,” the boy mumbled, giving Derek a tired but grateful smile, the corners of his lips turning up slowly. His eyes were saying a whole lot more, reflecting the disappointment at having to part, at the loss of contact between them in a way Derek hadn’t expected. He only nodded at Stiles, trying his best to communicate the same with his own expression before closing the door and stepping back so the car could pull out.

 

 

Stiles didn’t mean to pass out once they got to Scott’s. He had meant to stay up and initiate a long and gruelling planning session with the whole pack so they could actually work out what this she-demon’s endgame was. But as soon as he sat down on the makeshift bed Scott had set up in his room with the blow-up mattress, he found his whole body just crumpling, deflating like a balloon with his limbs becoming heavy and his head falling onto the pillow. He vaguely remembered mumbling something about closing his eyes for a minute, and the next thing he knew, he was fast asleep.

 

Stiles had awoken to Scott’s face inches from his own, peering down at him with those stupid brown puppy dog eyes and he did his best not to completely jump out of his skin. “Jesus Scotty,” he exclaimed, whacking the boy in the arm as he slowly sat up.

Scott just grinned down at him. “Sorry,” he shrugged, definitely not sorry at all. “You weren’t waking up so I was coming over to drag you out of bed.”

Stiles groaned, searching blindly for his phone that had fallen onto the floor by his bed. When he finally grasped the object, he checked the time. 9am. “Shit, dude we have school!” Stiles tried to jump out of bed, except his limbs were tangled in blankets and he was still kind of groggy so nothing was responding the right way. He ended up face down on the floor with Scott just chuckling above him. When Stiles flailed some more, his friend seemed to take pity on him and finally reached down to help, pulling him free of his blanket restraints and getting him upright again.

“You got a pass today since, you know, someone was murdered in your backyard yesterday and you were arrested for it,” Scott explained. “And I’m off because I told them you needed emotional support during this time.” Stiles shot his friend a look, and Scott grinned. “What? I thought it would be a good time to go to the practice and find Deaton. If we can get him to help with the ritual, then we’ll have it all ready for next weekend.”

“That’s-“ Stiles paused. “That’s actually a good idea.”

Scott looked proud. “Yeah, I have those sometimes.”

“Okay buddy, don’t get ahead of yourself there. We both remember the Red Bull incident of seventh grade.” Stiles nudged his friend’s shoulder playfully, getting a shove back as Scott laughed at the memory. “Seriously though,” Stiles stretched, popping his shoulder loudly, “that is a good plan. He won’t be able to avoid me if he expects us to be in school today.” He paused, looking around. “I think I need to borrow some clothes.”

Scott rolled his eyes and made his way over to his own bed where a pile of t-shirts and jeans were sitting folded on the covers. “Derek brought these over this morning,” Scott threw it all over towards Stiles who didn’t even attempt to catch it all, letting the stuff fall onto his floor-bed and then going through them.

“These are all brand new,” Stiles muttered, holding up one of the plain crew neck t-shirts. “When did Derek have time-? Nope,” he shook his head. “You know what, never mind. This is Derek we’re talking about, I don’t even want to know.”

Scott snorted. “Just get ready so we can go,” he urged.

Stiles shook himself and started heading to the bathroom for a shower with his new clothes. “You’re right, we’ll deal with Derek and his creeper-wolf tendencies later.”

 

 

Stiles could feel his heart starting to jack-rabbit as they approached the animal clinic, the adrenaline building as he pulled his jeep into the normal space and both he and Scott jumped out at the same time. He wasn’t sure why he was gearing up for a fight here - this was Deaton, Scott’s mentor, the friendly neighbourhood vet, not some monster they had to confront. But Stiles still steeled himself as they entered through the back door using Scott’s key and made their way through the store room and into the main practice. Deaton was in the examination room, sorting through a stack of papers with his back to them. He didn’t turn when they entered, clearly already aware they were there.

“Shouldn’t you boys be in school?” The man asked plainly, moving over to a box of medical supplies.

“Yeah, er, no,” Stiles corrected himself quickly. “We got the day off.”

The man just hummed, his focus still on the boxes in front of him. Stiles glanced over at Scott who shrugged unhelpfully.

“So,” Stiles started awkwardly. “Not sure how much Scott has filled you in on Beacon Hill’s latest monster,” Stiles shifted his weight, “but we need your help.” He waited for Deaton to turn and acknowledge what he’d said, but the man kept his back to them, though his shoulders were now a little tenser. “Hey man, I know you wanted to stay out of all this supernatural drama now Derek doesn’t want you as his emissary but we’re not asking you to join the fight or anything,” Stiles huffed angrily, folding his arms now. “We just need you to help us with-“

“A blood ritual,” Deaton finished for him, finally turning to face the two boys with a solemn expression. He was almost frowning, and he too folded his arms to match Stiles. Stiles could feel Scott tense at the new atmosphere, could see him from the corner of his eye step a little closer to Stiles. Good to know his best friend had his back. It made Stiles feel more confident, so he met Deaton’s eyes defiantly.

“Yeah, exactly. Not a hard one, just a silver infusion.”

Deaton shook his head. “And how do you know it won’t be hard?”

Stiles wanted to say _“because a vampire told me so”_ but he guessed that wouldn’t go down too well, so instead he just shrugged nonchalantly and replied, “I just know.”

Deaton observed him for a long minute with that all too familiar unsettling look that reminded Stiles yet again why he’d assumed that man was the Alpha way back when this shit show all started. Thanks again Peter Hale for that one.

“Stiles, I wish I could help you, but you don’t have a human that is capable of being the donor and I don’t feel comfortable with tricking someone into using their blood, nor do I think a blood bank would work either.”

Stiles had started to shake his head midway through Deaton’s speech. “It’s okay, I have a reliable-ish source,” Stiles paused and had to scoff in amusement at the idea of Enoch being a reliable source, “that informs me my spark wouldn’t interfere with the ritual.”

Instead of looking surprised or comforted or, well, anything, at that revelation, Deaton just looked a little sad. He also wouldn’t meet Stiles’ gaze anymore, going back to the stock he had been unpacking and focusing on putting it all away in the correct places.

“So, since that won’t be a problem, we can just use me,” Stiles prompted. He was getting tired of this man avoiding the issue. If he didn’t want to help them, he had to just say it.

“I know you’re frustrated with me Stiles, but you don’t have all the information yet.”

Stiles sighed dramatically and threw his arms in the air. “Well then, would you enlighten me for once so I’m not completely in the dark?”

Deaton suddenly turned and, completely out of character, placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. Out of instinct, Stiles wanted to jerk away, but the vet had a surprisingly firm grip on him. “I am not the one that can explain it to you. This is something you need to discuss with your Alpha. All I can say Stiles, is that there is far deeper magic in you.”

Stiles did not miss the sly glance Deaton shot over to Scott, nor did he miss his best friend’s frown that followed. It suddenly felt like everyone was in on some secret at his expense. Stiles pulled away. “Okay, fine. Then when we do get another human, since, you know, our _lives_ depend on this, then you’ll help us?”

Deaton sighed but nodded. “Yes, you bring the person here, and the silver blade, and I will help you do the ritual.’

“Great, fantastic, cool,” Stiles rambled, his mind already going, filtering through the new information.

 

They left the animal clinic quickly after that, Scott offering to drive since Stiles was so wrapped up in thought. If Deaton was certain that he couldn’t be used for this, then who the hell were they going to convince? He was almost 100% sure Allison was Scott’s mate, though his friend had never confirmed that with him, so that ruled her out. And Lydia was out considering the whole banshee thing. They were kind of screwed actually. The only way to get a human to offer themselves up as a blood bag would be if they knew _all_ the supernatural secrets, and there was no one they trusted enough to know about everything. Hell, he hadn’t even trusted his _dad_ enough to let him in on werewolves and ghouls and every other horrible thing that stalked the night. But, honestly, he still didn’t actually believe Deaton when he said he couldn’t do it. And what the hell would Derek have to add to that? What did the Alpha know about Stiles that could change everything?

 

Scott was abnormally quiet on the drive home. He kept his eyes on the road and his grip firm on the steering wheel. If Stiles wasn’t mistaken, it looked like Scott was thinking deeply about something.

“So let’s say your boss is right, and I can’t do this,” Stiles started, “then who are we going to use?”

Scott didn’t look away from the road. “I have no idea man.”

“Yeah,” Stiles shook his head, “neither do I.” He sighed. “But I think I need to go see Derek.”

“Yeah I think you do.”

Stiles looked over at his friend, frowning as Scott refused to meet his gaze. So now Scott was in on the secret too it seemed. Yeah he really needed to work out what the hell was going on. “Okay, drop me off at the Hale house, I bet that’s where Derek is. Then you can go back to yours and make some excuse up for my dad to explain where I am.” Stiles had really expected Scott to argue with that, he knew how bad his best friend was at lying, especially to adults, but Scott only nodded and took the next turn to head out towards the preserve.

 

 

Stiles had been right. Derek was there at the house, and this time he was working outside, moving large pieces of the underfloor heating inside the building with his shirt off and his skin gleaming with sweat. Stiles couldn’t help himself, he groaned out loud. How was he was supposed to have a serious conversation when the man looked like that? But, he jumped out the Jeep and made his way over with a false determination in his step. He heard Scott leave in a hurry behind him, kicking up dirt and dead leaves with the tires, and that made Derek look up and spot him. The man placed the long pipe he had been holding back down on the porch and jumped the three steps down, landing in the grass and striding forward to meet Stiles.

“Aren’t you supposed to be under house arrest?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Pft,” Stiles waved dismissively, “I’ve been under house arrest since I was twelve years old, hasn’t really stopped me before.”

Derek snorted, at least acknowledging the truth of that statement. He folded his arms loosely and observed Stiles, who was trying very hard not to let his eyes drift down to the bare chest in front of him.

“So I think it’s time we had a conversation,” Stiles started bravely, mustering all his courage to stand tall and look head on for this.

“About what?” Derek asked warily.

“About how I just went to see Deaton, and he refused to let me be the human for the knife ritual because I have, and I quote, ‘far deeper magic’ in me, which I do not understand and then he tells me that you are the only one who can explain it. So, here I am, ready to have it explained.”

“No,” Derek replied simply, his voice firm.

“No?” Stiles blinked. “What do you mean _no_?!” He was starting to get angry now. “I think I have a right to know what the _hell_ is going on, considering this is _about me_!”

Derek ran a hand through his hair roughly, his expression now frustrated and pained and a hint of something Stiles couldn’t work out. “God damn it Stiles,” he muttered, pulling on his hair again. “This isn’t- it’s not the right-“ He huffed angrily. “It’s not just something I can throw at you!”

Stiles waved his arms around. “Why not?” He exclaimed. “What could be so big, so important, that you-“

 

And then he stopped. Derek was now in a guarded position, his whole body braced for something terrible, ready for Stiles to... what? And then it hit him. Deeper magic, magic so ingrained in someone that other creatures could sense it, way beyond his spark or anything like that. The reason Derek had to be the one to tell him. Why the wolf had pushed him away so many times, had been so touchy about Alex, why they had managed to fool an _ancient vampire_ by just sharing a bed together for one night. _God, he’d been so stupid_.

 

Stiles looked up at the man opposite him. He could see Derek knew he’d figured it out, and he had never seen someone look so ready to bolt in his entire life. Derek was somehow a combination of fierce defensiveness and unbelievable vulnerability in that moment.

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Stiles blurted. He had no idea what to say, no idea how to even address something as monumental as this. Derek was on the verge of just turning to leave, and hell no, Stiles was not going to let him get away with this. He grabbed the Alpha’s arm and pulled him around again so he could look him in the eyes. “There is no way, on this freaking earth, I’m going to let you walk away from me right now.”

“And how are you going to stop me?” Derek spat, going for cold indifference but his eyes were betraying him. He looked hurt. Well, Stiles was pretty damn hurt too, thank you very much.

“Yeah, no. We’re not doing this whole ‘you’re the big bad wolf who doesn’t have to speak because he has claws and fangs and _glowing red eyes_ ’. I think I damn well deserve an explanation right about now.”

Derek shook his head. “You deserve a choice Stiles, to decide the course of your own life,” he said it lowly, just loud enough for Stiles to hear.

Stiles scoffed harshly. “A choice?” He pulled his hand off Derek’s arm like it had been scorned. “How can I have a choice when I don’t even know what my options are?”

“Because!” Derek curled his hands like he had wanted to wave them in frustration. “If I had told you this, you wouldn’t think about yourself anymore! You wouldn’t think about what this meant for your future, for college or a career or anything.” Derek was pacing now, his voice exasperated, with growls mixed in as he glared at the tree line. He stopped when he realised Stiles was still silent. “I know you Stiles,” he murmured, voice so much quieter all of a sudden. “You put everyone else first, and if I had told you what _this_ truly meant, you’d give up everything.” Derek looked at him pleadingly. “I can’t let you give up your life for me.”

 

Stiles swallowed, his throat suddenly dry and scratchy. He wanted- _god, what did he want_? He wanted more than he could comprehend in that moment, but Derek was staying out of reach and he felt so distant and Stiles was still _angry_ , could still feel that rage in the pit of his stomach that the man in front of him had made this decision for him, had made it without even _telling_ him what was going on. But this was _Derek_ , and as much as the wolf knew him, Stiles knew Derek too. He’d push everyone away out of his own lack of self-regard, the guilt from the fire and every other teenage mistake making Derek believe he wasn’t worthy of love and friendship and basic human kindness. And it had Stiles’ heart breaking to see just how far that internalised self-hatred had gone for the wolf. He really thought he could ignore a mate bond in favour of Stiles getting to live a normal, human life - a life without Derek in it. Saying the words in his head had Stiles’ breath catch in his throat. Derek noticed(of course he did) and the Alpha seemed to still, all his focus now honed in on Stiles - waiting, anticipating the next move.

 

“What am I to you?” Stiles whispered.

“Stiles,” Derek warned, voice low and eyes dark.

Stiles shook his head. “No, I need you to say it.” He shuffled his feet. “I need to hear you say it otherwise it’s not real.” He could feel his heart thudding so hard it was pounding against his rib cage. He knew Derek could hear it, could probably even tell the way it spiked when Stiles chanced another look up at the Alpha’s face, which was pinched, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pulled down at the corners, like the man was in actual, physical pain.

“Stiles, I can’t-“ Derek huffed at himself, squeezing his eyes shut.

Stiles shook his head. “Can’t, or won’t?” He asked despondently. Of course this was how it would go - Derek refusing to even acknowledge anything until they were both so frustrated that one of them just ends up storming off. Stiles sighed and looked down at his feet, just waiting for the inevitable to happen. But then he heard the ground crunching and Derek was suddenly in his space, all bare chest and hot breath and dark eyes and then he was grabbing Stiles’ face and finally, like two magnetic poles finding each other, their mouths were pressed together roughly. It was all tongue and no finesse, but it felt like time had paused and their surroundings had faded away into nothingness. The only thing that mattered was the warm body of Derek in front of him, and Stiles pushed into the kiss, not really sure how long he had left of this bliss.

 

Except, it seemed Derek had the same idea. His hands were still framing Stiles’ face, surprisingly soft skin now feather light against his cheeks. Derek’s whole body seemed to be shuddering, a long, drawn out rumble coming from deep in his chest as their kiss turned slower, more deliberate and less desperate clashing teeth. Stiles was left panting when they finally pulled apart, but Derek kept his hands on his face, resting their foreheads together with his eyes still closed. Stiles realised he had his hands on Derek’s waist but he didn’t pull them away. Instead, he moved one slowly across the warm, smooth skin of his abdomen and up to the Alpha’s chest, resting it just above where he could feel the rumble under the skin. Derek opened his eyes, the blue-green looked molten as he stared at Stiles, unblinking. The growl had finally stopped, and suddenly Stiles could hear all the noises around them again - the late afternoon birds chirping from nearby trees, the rustling of leaves as a breeze picked up, the slow, steady breaths of Derek that were washing over him.

 

“Okay, not that _that_ ,” Stiles gestured between the two of them as Derek finally stepped back, “wasn’t great, because it was and I don’t have a huge list of comparisons but I’m pretty sure that was the best,” he rubbed the back of his head. “But it doesn’t mean you don’t have to talk about this now.”

Derek made a low grumbling sound and stepped back again, his features rearranging to that unreadable expression that Stiles was starting to hate, since it usually meant the Alpha was keeping something from him and was definitely not going to disclose it. “I’m going to drive you back to Scott’s. Your dad is probably worried about you.”

Stiles wanted to start shouting, to say screw everyone so they could actually deal with this right now, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Derek had made up his mind, and if he started to argue now, it would just leave both of them angry and upset. So, with a small, dejected nod of his head, Stiles followed the wolf over to where his car was parked and slipped into the passenger side, slamming the door a little harder than necessary.

 

 

The car ride was painfully silent. Every little twitch that either of them made had the other flinching, both so hyper aware that it felt like static shocks every time they moved within the vehicle. Stiles was getting increasingly more angry the closer they got to Scott’s, and by the time Derek finally pulled up in front of the house, Stiles didn’t even look over to say anything. He just couldn’t see that stupid hard mask over the Alpha’s face right now, not after glimpsing fully behind it for what was probably the first time in their entire interactions. So he threw open the door and escaped out the car as quick as he could without tripping over his own limbs, making a beeline for the front door only to be stopped by Derek grabbing his hand. Somehow the Alpha had managed to get out the Camaro silently and catch him before he could even get up the driveway. Stiles spun around with the coldest glare he could muster, but he only felt worse when he saw Derek flinch at the sight of it. He still wrenched his hand out of the wolf’s grip though.

“Stiles,” Derek tried, his voice cracking as his eyes pleaded, like he was begging Stiles to understand.

Except Stiles didn’t understand. At all actually. So he just shook his head and turned away, heading up towards the house without looking back. He heard the screeching tires but that all too familiar exhaustion was back and all he wanted to do was curl up in a ball and scream into a pillow.

 

His dad did look worried when he walked in the door, but the Sheriff wasn’t able to get his question out before Stiles was shaking his head and heading up to Scott’s room where he hoped his friend would leave him alone so he could process it all. It just made him feel worse when his dad’s face fell and he let his son brush past him without a word, but Stiles kept his head down and slipped out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go.... It only took 81,000 words to get them to kiss! Buuuuut our boys are not going to make this easy so don’t worry, still plenty more angst to come :)
> 
> Hope this was worth the wait! Thanks for sticking with this guys, it means so much to me to see you all enjoying this journey. Every single review and kudos brings a smile to my face. Please keep doing it, I love to hear what you guys thought!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m actually the worst. I’m so so sorry for making you all wait this long for an update. Writers block is a bitch and I’m useless, so that’s my excuse. I’m going to dedicate my time off now to getting this story finished, because you all deserve it for being so patient and so kind to me. Thank you for sticking with this, enjoy!

 

* * *

 

Stiles hadn’t spoken to Derek the whole week. He had been throwing himself into planning and preparing for the arrival of the Verpreux witch, while trying every avenue to find a human who could be used for the ritual until finally, he just threw it out to the whole pack in case any of them had any bright ideas and Jackson piped up with “what about Danny?”. And that’s when it all came out that Danny had actually known about werewolves since the whole Kanima incident. Stiles was so happy they would actually have a volunteer that he really just let it go that the boy had been in the know for this long and not said a word to any of them. He also forgave Jackson too, since the reason he’d told Danny was because of the intense emotional distress he’d been through and he’d just needed his best friend to talk to. Stiles could understand that. It actually really humanised Jackson. So he just nodded knowingly at Jackson and thanked him for offering to fill Danny in on what they needed.

 

Stiles also hadn’t slept in his bed for a week. Him and his dad had moved back into the house a few days after the body had been found, once it was all cleared up and the crime scene had been combed for clues, of course coming up with nothing. But he couldn’t bring himself to sleep in his room, so he’d been camped down in the living room on the couch. Isaac had been there with him, every night, his own body either curled up on the armchair or on the floor in a pile of blankets or sometimes even on the couch with Stiles, head in his lap and soft rumbles comforting the human as they both tried to get enough sleep to function the next day. Stiles knew Isaac was there partly because Derek was probably being a real asshole right now, and he felt bad about that because it was kind of his fault, but he knew the wolf was also there because Isaac could sense how bad Stiles was feeling too, and how much his presence really did help. Especially since the nightmares were back in full force, most featuring the lifeless bodies of each one of his friends that had Stiles scared to sleep in case it was Derek next.

 

 

Deaton had agreed to help them on Friday evening, so Jackson and Danny met Stiles and Scott outside the vet clinic and they all made their way inside silently. Stiles was itching to ask Danny questions about why he’d kept quiet this whole time, but the other boy was looking pretty apprehensive, so Stiles kept his thoughts to himself.

“Hey Deaton, we found a human sacrifice!” Stiles called as they entered the operating room where Deaton was setting up the table in the middle of the room for them. No one laughed at Stiles’ joke, and Scott sent him that classic ‘if you don’t shut up we’ll get kicked out’ look that he’d seen a hundred times before. Danny was visibly more pale at the sight of the huge silver blade Scott pulled out of his backpack and handed over to his boss. Deaton inspected it for a minute, then smiled at them.

“This will work perfectly.” He then turned to Jackson and Danny and held out his hand to the human boy. “I’m Deaton, you must be Danny.”

To give him his due, Danny extended his own hand and confidently shook Deaton’s, giving him an almost smile too before following his direction to sit down on the table. Deaton then ordered the rest of them to step back out of the way so he could move around the table and collect all the components that he’d laid out ready. The large metal bowl already had a bunch of herbs in it, some of which were giving off a faint aroma of baking spices and mint. Deaton seemed to mix them around some more before bringing it over and placing the bowl down beside Danny’s thigh. He then picked up the blade and read over a page of notes that he had out on the counter.

“Okay Danny,” Deaton said calmly, standing in front of him and holding the blade in the bowl. “I’m going to say a few lines before I need you to do anything.”

Danny briefly glanced over at Jackson and Stiles caught the usually contemptuous boy give his friend a genuine encouraging smile which made Danny seem to steel himself as he looked back at the man in front of him.

 

When Deaton started talking, Stiles recognised the Latin he was repeating in a low tone as he turned the knife slowly in the bowl. Stiles tried to repeat the phrases in his head so he could remember them, and he watched closely how Deaton twisted the knife and in which direction he went with each different phrase. It seemed to matter how he was holding the blade when he said certain things. Stiles was thinking so deeply about the meaning of it that he missed Deaton getting done and moving towards Danny.

“Okay Danny, now it’s time for your part,” Deaton said encouragingly. In response, Danny quickly offered his open hand palm up. Deaton smiled. “We don’t want to cut there, or else you won’t be able to use that hand for weeks.” Deaton carefully turned Danny’s hand over and pulled his forearm over the bowl so it was almost resting on the lip. “I’m going to make a small incision here just above your elbow with the blade, and then I’ll put it back in the bowl and a few more drops should be enough,” Deaton pointed to the area he was talking about as he explained the process. It was easily the most comforting Stiles had ever seen the man. Why Deaton couldn’t have been that helpful with them when they needed him back in the early days was beyond him, but at least Danny was looking a lot more comfortable with the whole thing.

“You only need a few drops?” Jackson spoke up.

“Blood rituals rarely call for more than that. A few drops can hold enough power in them for the spell to work,” Deaton replied as he positioned the knife at Danny’s arm. “Alright, are you ready?” He asked and Danny nodded. Deaton then carefully, with practiced hands, made a small cut on the top of Danny’s forearm then quickly tilted the blade so a few drops ran all the way up it to the hilt. He then started to mutter something that Stiles couldn’t catch, and dropped the blade back into the bowl. He turned Danny’s arm so a few more drops fell on the silver knife and into the herb mix below. As soon as he had enough, Deaton turned Danny’s arm again and looked over at them.

“Scott, grab the gauze and tape and dress Danny’s arm for me. Stiles, come here and keep mixing this. You need to keep it steady and going clockwise.”

 

Stiles jumped forward and took over from Deaton so the vet could gather up all the ingredients and put them back in their tubes and containers. Stiles stared down at the metal bowl. The herbs were now all clumping together with the congealing blood, some of the larger leaves sticking to the knife. Stiles kept it moving like Deaton had instructed, and he half expected the concoction to start smoking or changing in some way, but it stayed pretty much the same. Disappointed, Stiles looked back over at the other boys who were helping Danny bandage his arm. Jackson was nodding to something Scott had said, and Danny was smiling at them both, looking a lot better than when he’d first walked into the clinic. Stiles couldn’t help but shake his head. It was an image he never thought he’d see - Scott getting along with both Danny and Jackson, interacting like they had been friends for years, no animosity between them anymore. The pack really had changed. This she-demon had somehow brought them all closer together in a way no other monster they had fought had done before.

 

Stiles had to quickly pull himself out of those thoughts as his mind drifted to the relationship he’d built with one particular pack member over these last few months. He felt a stab of something in his gut every time he started thinking about the Alpha. Thankfully, Deaton had deemed the ritual complete and Stiles was able to pull the knife out of the bowl and start inspecting it. Deaton handed him a towel to wipe off the residual from the blade, and by the time Stiles was done, it looked brand new again, like the whole thing hadn’t happened. He hoped Deaton was right though, and everything had gone according to plan. If they actually managed to pull off the whole capture and bind thing and then got to the stabbing part only to fall at the last hurdle, Stiles wasn’t sure they’d make it out alive for a second try.

 

 

“So, thanks for helping us out Danny,” Stiles said brightly, clapping said boy on the shoulder as they left the clinic. Danny gave him one of his best unimpressed looks and brushed out the creases Stiles had left on his jacket. “You know,” Stiles suddenly thought, “you are probably technically part of the pack now, after this. So you can come to pack meetings and sit with me while all these guys run around like puppies,” he suggested excitedly. He wasn’t actually completely sure if he’d even want to be at pack meetings for a long time, but the thought of having another human around did sound good to Stiles. “That’s if we don’t die in the next few days of course,” Stiles added as an afterthought.

Danny looked mildly perturbed by that, but he did half smile at Stiles’ offer. “Thanks,” he nodded over at Jackson who was clearly done with their interactions for the day and was heading over to his car. “I’ll think about it,” Danny directed to them then turned to follow his friend. Stiles looked over at Scott who just shrugged, shouldering his backpack again and opening the passenger door of the Jeep.

 

Stiles pulled up outside Scott’s house ten minutes later, parking the Jeep on the curb and sighing. “Here you go buddy,” he prompted when Scott didn’t seem to be getting out. “Don’t forget to rate me five stars,” he joked. His friend turned to him and eyed him in that way that reminded Stiles that Scott was actually pretty perceptive when he wanted to be.

“You’re still coming tomorrow, right?” He asked.

Stiles plastered a fake smile onto his face. “Of course, wouldn’t miss it for the world. I am the guest of honour after all.”

Scott raised his eyebrows. “Even though you’re avoiding Derek?”

Clearly Scott wasn’t buying Stiles’ attempt at brushing it off. He groaned and felt himself sag into the car seat. “Dude, this thing with Derek is so completely screwed up.”

“Yeah, well,” Scott shrugged, “it is _Derek_ ,” he pulled a face like that explained everything and Stiles let out a humourless laugh because it kind of did. Nothing about Derek was ever easy, and yet here he was, falling for the guy anyway. Fallen. Completely and utterly actually. It made Stiles groan again and he shut his eyes, leaning his head back against his seat.

“What am I supposed to do?” He asked, still not opening his eyes. “He refuses to talk about it. It’s all, ‘no’ and ‘I can’t’ and ‘you deserve a choice’.” Stiles rubbed his face angrily.

“But have you told him where you stand?”

Stiles looked over at his friend, a little speechless all of a sudden. Scott raised his eyebrows knowingly, and it was definitely an expression he’d learnt from his best friend. Stiles wasn’t sure he liked being on the receiving end of it.

“I’ll take that as a no then,” Scott prompted.

“Hey, getting snarky is my thing, you’re not allowed to use it on me!” Stiles’ protest was a little lacklustre. He huffed. “I thought it was pretty clear how I felt.”

Scott shrugged. “I just think it can’t hurt to tell him everything. Tell him directly how you feel. Derek doesn’t talk about, well, most things, sure, but Stiles,” Scott looked at him earnestly, “you use talking to avoid expressing feelings. I see you do it all the time, and I know you don’t think anyone notices, but I do. And I think Derek knows it too. So maybe it’ll take more than just hints and implying to get it through to him.”

Stiles was kind of in shock. He hadn’t even thought about it in that way, but Scott was right. He could complain all he wanted about Derek never telling him how he felt, but Stiles was doing exactly the same thing.

 

Scott seemed to realise Stiles needed to think over his words, so he grabbed his backpack and opened the car door. “Allison is going to pick me up tomorrow, so I’ll see you at Derek’s,” Scott said softly. Stiles just nodded at his friend and watched him head into his house with a last wave before closing the front door.

 

 

His alarm went off far too early the next morning. He was still camping out on the sofa, but this time Isaac hadn’t been there with him. It meant his dreams were plagued by shadowy figures and barely there whimpers, always too far out of reach for him to help. Stiles had to shake it off as he sat up and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He checked his phone for missed calls but there was only a text from Lydia making sure he was up and getting ready. He replied with a quick ‘i’m awake’ then threw the device to the side. Stiles hadn’t even thought about what it would be like to meet this witch, or what she may want in return for doing this spell. Would she be a threat to them? Yet another being they’d have to try and take down? He’d been so preoccupied with the other drama in his life that he hadn’t actually considered this meeting might go poorly. He really needed to fix this Derek situation, it was making him miss things - making him slower. And in this world, that could sometimes literally mean the difference between life and death.

 

Stiles managed to haul himself up and into the shower after another five minutes of staring, bleary eyed, at his knees, wishing he was still asleep even with the nightmares. At this time in the morning on one of his dad’s rare days off, he didn’t expect to run into the man on the landing as he exited the bathroom fully dressed and ready to go. They both looked surprised to see the other there, and then his dad’s eyes narrowed.

“Heading out?” He asked with that classic Sheriff look.

Stiles cleared his throat. “Uh huh,” he nodded, trying to seem nonchalant but achieving a more guilty teenager look. “I’m meeting Scott and Allison for some coffee, you know, hanging out and stuff.”

His dad clearly didn’t buy it. “At 6:30 in the morning?”

Stiles nodded. He just had to go with it now. “Yup, you know what they always say, early bird catches the worm! Or, I guess, the freshly brewed coffee in this case.”

“Anyone else going to be there?” His dad asked with a knowing look. How did he always do that?

“I think Lydia might be joining us, and that usually means Jackson will make an appearance. And I bet Isaac will want to join in if he thinks he’s missing out on something,” Stiles shrugged.

“How about Derek Hale? Will he be there?”

Stiles could feel his face go pale. “W-what?” He stammered, then cursed himself for being so obvious. He cleared his throat again. “Even if Derek was coming, why would that matter?”

His dad sighed, and his face shifted to worn out. It was an expression Stiles had seen a lot in his childhood, one he associated with a single dad trying to raise a difficult ADHD son who’d just lost his mother. It was one of his least favourite looks. “I’m not stupid Stiles,” his dad shook his head. “I know you went to see Hale that night of the murder. And I know you’ve been spending more time with him recently. I just-“ His dad sighed again. “I want you to be careful Stiles, and I want you to be honest with me. I know you’re keeping things from me, and I- I’m not your mother, but you can still tell me stuff if you need to. Stuff to do with girls, or boys, or whatever.”

Stiles felt the lump in his throat rise up, his eyes welling up at the pain in his father’s expression. But what was he supposed to do? He couldn’t tell him about Derek without bringing up the pack and werewolves and the whole supernatural world that was far more dangerous than anything his dad dealt with on a day to day basis. If his father had to be put through the stress of dealing with supernatural beings as well as regular old criminals, Stiles wasn’t sure what that would do to him. So he had to suck it up, be the bad son, destroy the already straining relationship he had with his father in order to keep him safe.

“I know, dad,” he sighed. “But I’m not seeing Derek and there is nothing to report on the whole girl or boy relationship kind of thing.” Stiles sidestepped around his father and could see the man’s shoulders sag in resignation. “I’m not keeping things from you, I’m just being a regular teenager.” He turned and winced to himself at the harsh tone he was using. He heard his dad call after him as he quickly made his way downstairs, but he didn’t turn back, too afraid of the hurt expression he knew would be there, instead dashing out the door as fast as he could.

 

 

Stiles did not want to see him, didn’t want his eyes to immediately seek out those sea green ones that he just knew would be staring right at him as he pulled up outside the Hale house. He wanted to seem cool, indifferent, completely in control. But that was impossible with the stupid Alpha and his stupid face that was twisted into a look of concern and regret and- _what? Longing?_ Stiles knew he must have been imagining it, because, by the time he had looked back from slamming the Jeep door closed, it was gone. He wasn’t able to hide his discomfort quite as well. It seemed the whole pack could tell, and they shifted awkwardly until Stiles had come to stand beside Scott and Allison and clapped his hands together.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” he claimed, yet no one moved. They looked to Derek instead, but he wasn’t paying attention to them. The man was still staring at Stiles, eyes unblinking and face now set, hard and stoney and determined, and Stiles didn’t want to know what that meant. “Why aren’t we going?” He asked them, taking the first steps in the direction he thought the meeting place would be. “We don’t want to keep our guest waiting.”

The pack hesitated a second longer, then, one by one, started to follow Stiles towards the forest. As he passed the Alpha, the man grabbed his arm and held Stiles back, nodding for the others to go on ahead. Stiles gulped.

“Stiles,” was all Derek said, but he managed to pack a lot of meaning into that one word. It was his stormy eyes that were doing half of the work, and Stiles had to avert his gaze before they became too much. He carefully pulled his arm out of Derek’s grip and took a few steps back, placing distance between them to keep his mind clear.

“I want to talk,” he told the Alpha, finally looking back up at him. “But not now. We have to get this witch on our side, and we have to end this she-demon once and for all. We need to stay focused Derek, and then we can figure this out.” Stiles bit his lip as he watched Derek process his words with a frown. Remembering what Scott had said, Stiles added, “and I do want to, figure this out I mean.”

Derek looked quite surprised at his admission, but the Alpha allowed his frown to smooth out and he nodded his head. “Okay,” he agreed. As Stiles made a move to follow the pack, Derek spoke again. “Wait.” The wolf was still staring at him and for once his face looked open, the guarded look in his eyes gone. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept this from you. I just-“ Derek looked down.

“I know,” Stiles nodded. Derek’s shoulders relaxed, and he nodded too, then pulled on that stern look over his face that meant he was back to business. Stiles smiled, almost fondly, at it, and was glad Derek had already turned away so he missed the moment of weakness. As he followed Derek into the woods, he almost found his hand itching to reach forward and curl itself inside of Derek’s warm palm. Stiles shook himself. They had a mission, and he had to keep his head straight. No more thoughts of him and Derek until after they had the witch. With his new rule firmly in the forefront of his mind, Stiles steeled himself for the encounter they were about to have.

 

 

The pack reached the meeting place as a unit, Derek at the front with Scott and, surprisingly, Stiles either side of him. Stiles wanted to think it was because the witch had specifically requested to meet him, not because of the unresolved mate thing he had with the Alpha. They hadn’t agreed on anything yet, and Stiles would hate to get his hopes up that being a mate of an Alpha meant his position in the pack could be on par with Scott’s. The witch was already there waiting for them. She stood on the crest of the bridge, her hands resting behind her back and her head tilted in a relaxed, gentle way that gave off an amicable demeanour. She was petite, her bleached hair cropped short against her head and her eyes rimmed with dark makeup that made them stand out on her small, angular face. As they got closer, Stiles noticed how her bronzed skin was an almost golden brown in the early morning sunlight streaming through the trees. She smiled at them - nothing wide, just a curling of her lips that only made her seem more approachable. She was completely the opposite of what Stiles had been expecting.

 

Derek stared at the witch silently, clearly assessing her with all his wolf senses in a very unsubtle way that made Stiles want to roll his eyes. Eventually, Derek extended his arm and offered the girl his hand for her to shake. She did so, introducing herself, and Stiles didn’t see Derek tense at the contact, so she was clearly giving him good vibes. It was a positive start. The Alpha did tense though when Danielle pulled back and fixed her gaze on Stiles.

“I have heard a lot about you, Mieczyslaw Stilinski,” the girl murmured, stepping towards him but coming to a halt when Derek growled lowly. She bowed her head to him, her gaze falling to the ground. “My mistake,” she moved back again and Derek was suddenly pressed up against Stiles’ side, his body positioned slightly in front of Stiles and his fists clenched. Stiles instinctually placed a hand on the Alpha’s arm, gently pulling him back so they were stood side by side with a few inches of space between them but joined by the hand Stiles now had wrapped loosely around Derek’s wrist. It seemed to do the job, as the Alpha slowly relaxed again, enough for the witch to look back up and feel it was safe to address Stiles again.

“I don’t mean you any harm Mieczyslaw.” Her voice was quiet but strong, deeper than Stiles expected but still held that tinge of youth that gave away how young the girl really was. She couldn’t be more than sixteen. She was brave to come all this way to help a pack she knew nothing about.

“How do you know my name?” Stiles asked. He wanted to get closer so he wouldn't have to half-yell his question, but he knew Derek would freak out. The wolf was already on edge, though he was doing a good job at hiding it, for now.

Danielle smiled softly. “The spirits talk about you,” she replied. Stiles wasn’t surprised that she, like Ms Ripley, was able to see and speak to spirits. He’d read that witches had direct contact with the dead, both the spirits who had and hadn’t found peace. Stiles had no idea that there was a network of spirits out there gossiping about him though. It made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

“I hope they’ve only said good things,” Stiles joked and Danielle smirked.

“Oh don’t worry, they’re big fans of yours,” she laughed to herself like it was some kind of inside joke. “They’re not so fond of the company you keep though,” Danielle gestured to the pack behind him and Stiles heard Derek huff. He squeezed his wrist and felt Derek’s eyes shift to him briefly but Stiles didn’t look over. He kept his gaze on the witch. She still looked relaxed, that serene smile back in place as she observed them.

“Good to know,” Stiles finally replied.

 

He listened closely as Derek then initiated the discussion about the spell. Danielle seemed to have come prepared, and she knew what was being asked of her before Derek even had to say anything specifically about the Empusa. Danielle had shuddered at the descriptions of the murders, and a steely resolve took over her after Derek had finished describing each victim.

“I will help you,” she said firmly, “with anything you need. This creature needs to be stopped.”

Derek nodded in thanks, and Stiles saw some of the other wolves nodding too, agreeing with the young witch. He smiled to himself. They had a witch on their side now, things were starting to shift in their favour, finally. He realised that the discussion seemed to be done, but they were all still standing on the bridge awkwardly, looking to Derek to make the next move but the Alpha seemed lost at what to do now. So Stiles stepped forward, squeezing Derek’s wrist one last time before letting go and approaching Danielle. She eyed the pack behind him briefly then smiled at Stiles, offering her hand. Stiles took it, giving her his best welcoming smile.

“Thank you for helping us,” he told her but she shook her head.

“Mieczyslaw-“

“It’s Stiles, call me Stiles,” he interrupted, rubbing his neck, still so uncomfortable at hearing his real name, the one only his mother had been able to pronounce.

“Stiles,” Danielle corrected, “you never have to thank me, or any of my kind. The witches will always be here to support you.”

Taken aback by her words, Stiles could only rub his neck again with a smile and try to move past the deeper meaning there. “Great, cool, thanks,” he rambled, then, realising what he was doing, made himself take a breath to compose. “Do you have anywhere to stay?” He asked her. Danielle shrugged, which was enough of an answer for him. “Okay, then you’re staying with me.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” she tried, shaking her head with a conspicuous look over Stiles’ shoulder, most likely at an Alpha who was giving them both a death glare in that moment. Stiles chose to ignore it.

“No, I insist. You’ve come all this way, it’s the least I can do.” He grinned. “I promise Casa de Stilinski is way better than the slimey motels here.” He paused. “Though it was just a murder crime scene so maybe its not,” he hummed, actually considering that for a moment.

Danielle seemed, maybe out of politeness or just desire to move past the moment and stop Derek’s frustration at being left out, to accept Stiles’ offer and nodded her head graciously. Grinning again, Stiles clapped his hands together for the second time that morning. It was his go-to move to dispel any lingering awkwardness, whether it worked or not - the track record wasn’t really great going by the looks the pack had still been shooting him as they’d made their way to the meeting at the bridge. But he had high hopes this time. Danielle seemed receptive to his approach, and she was now smiling a little wider at them all.

“Okay, great,” he looked over his shoulder at his pack who were all warily fidgeting and glancing at their Alpha. They weren’t actively shifting though, so Stiles took that as a good sign, and he looked back at Danielle. “But, we have to make a stop first before we can go back to mine.” He sighed. “How do you feel about coffee?”

 

 


End file.
